


The Alliance of Empires

by Queerbutstillhere



Series: Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent [10]
Category: DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Adult Damian Wayne, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Emperor, Alternate Universe - Evil, Beating, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Brothers bonding, Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Damian Al Guhl, Damian is gorgeous and he knows it, Developing Relationship, Emperor Kal-El, Emperor Ra's Al Guhl, Evil Plans, Execution, Falling In Love, Family Healing, Gore, Homophobia, Honeymoon chapter, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sex, Injury, Interrogation, Jon-El - Freeform, Jor-El is an asshole in this okay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Main Character Death, Major character death - Freeform, Mentioned Talia al Ghul, Murder, Murder Husbands, Not A Happy Ending, One Night Stands, Prince Damian Wayne, Prince Jon Kent, Punishment, Rage, Sad Ending, Serious Injuries, Smut, The League of Assassins (DCU), Treason, Violence, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, Xenophobia, graphic description of death, most of Jon's family is tbh, overlords AU, so is Kon El
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 99,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22471729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerbutstillhere/pseuds/Queerbutstillhere
Summary: Emperor Ra's Al Guhl had been Emperor of Earth for well over thirty long years. Long enough to crush rebellion and re-established his own governments over the whole planet.Emperor Kal-El has ruled Krypton for fifty years, and before him, his father Jor-El. His son Kon-El is soon to take the throne.With rebellion growing on Earth, and the Lantern Corp getting bolder in their advances on Krypton, the two Emperor's agree to form an Alliance to benefit both empires.Only their Prince's have other plans.Prince Damian Al Guhl plans to over throw his grandfather and take the kingdom for himself, while Prince Jon-El, well, he's yet to decide what he wants, but all he knows is that Damian makes a tempting offer.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525499
Comments: 204
Kudos: 237





	1. An Alliance is Formed

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授翻】【jondami/黑化】帝国联盟](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059365) by [LisK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisK/pseuds/LisK)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I wrote this chapter in two days and I just couldn't wait to post it. I just wanted to get this out there!
> 
> I will go ahead and say I was greatly inspired to write this by VirusZeref's "I Would Burn Down the World for You" series, so if you notice similarities, that's why! Please go check them out and give them some love! They deserve it!!!
> 
> So preemptively, I have left certain topics untouched for now. These chapters will be longer(hopefully will be fewer at that), and updates will be irregular. Anything that isn't addressed now is left that way on purpose :)
> 
> The warnings will be in tags so please look at those!
> 
> Please read and enjoy!

Damian Al Guhl was many things. He was an assassin, a soldier, a general, a leader, an enforcer, an executioner, and most importantly, a Prince. He had done a great many things, fought and won wars, killed men, conquered cities. He had watched the life drain out of his mother's eyes after she betrayed him, and he had been pleased. He was a cruel, wicked man, who got what he wanted and did what he pleased. He was heir to the demon, and the demon ruled the entire planet. Which meant, soon he would too. For he planned to murder his grandfather in short order, having made his plans and garnered support for his own cause within Ra's troops.

But one thing he was not, was a diplomat. He didn't have patience for treaties and deals and formalities. If you couldn't impress him by force, then words certainly would not do.

But Ra's had decided that today, he would be one.

Damian's eyes scanned over the diplomat stood in front of his throne. His for the time. His because his grandfather was gone, was in America, squashing the Rebel uprising. His, until the old mans return. And then soon after it would his for good.

The diplomat was undeniably attractive, beautiful of face and powerful of body. He screamed power and radiated confidence. His smooth light skin was marred only by a single scar cutting across his cheek. His jawline was sharp, well formed, cheekbones present but not gaunt. He had a strong masculine nose and pink full lips. His black hair was mid length, sections curling to frame his face, the longest piece barely longer then his chin. And his eyes were bluer than Sapphire's, sincere, but guarded. His body, partially hidden by the blood red cape he wore, was clearly muscular, the clothing he wore not even attempting to hide it, not attempting to hide his broad, muscular shoulders, his powerful arms. Nor his well defined chest and abdomen, or his similarly muscled thighs.

His shirt was a short dark blue tunic, tucked into similarly colored pants, both were tight. A golden belt wrapped around his pants, and Damian had instantly recognized the loop designed for a sword, which was empty. Gold clasps held the cape onto the man's shirt, and at certain angles, Damian could see an even darker blue emblem on the man's shirt, that looked like an S contained within a diamond shape. The crest of the House of El.

This diplomat, Damian knew, was Prince Jon-El, son of Emperor Kal, Lord of Krypton. This diplomat was no diplomat, but instead a very important figure on Krypton, and Damian was painfully aware how any harm to him would cause the Kryptonians to raze Earth. He was, unfortunately, keen to avoid that. Prince Jon-El was on one knee, head bowed as his blue eyes looked up through his eyelashes. They made eye contact and Damian gave a slight nod, so the prince stood, reaching to straighten his shirt. 

Damian himself was wearing some of his most ornamental robes. Well, they weren't really robes. He had black harem style pants, a broad green sash tied around his waist, a sword belt laying over that. His boots reached half way up his calves, dark brown leather with gold laces. He didn't really have a shirt, his honey skin on display along with his toned chest and stomach. Instead, was a vest like cape, tight on his shoulders, but flowing out around him when he stood. This too was green, detailed with glittering gold thread. Over his collar bones sat a golden necklace, broad, decorated with emeralds, black diamonds and various smaller jewels. Gold and black rings adorned his fingers, and gold bands sat just above his biceps and around his wrists. His hair, black like a spatial void, was long, reaching past his shoulder blades, and today his servants had braided it, intertwining it with jewelry and fine gold decorations. On top of his head, weaved into his hair was his simple gold crown, a single, thin band of gold that sat just below his hairline, marking him as a Prince, as if anyone on this planet or coming to visit him wouldn't know instantly.

"Prince Al Guhl," the Kryptonian greeted, dipping his head lightly.

"Prince El," Damian responded, his voice smooth and silky in comparison to the Kryptonian's deeper, rougher accent.

English was neither of theirs birth tongues, but Damian was used to speaking odd languages, whereas Jon-El was clearly used to speaking the language of his homeworld.

"Emperor Kal sends his greetings and many good wishes to the Emperor Al Guhl."

"Well, if you didn't notice, he's not here, I am. You may give your father's greeting to me," Damian said with a bored roll of his hand.

The Prince seemed taken aback, but quickly composed himself, relaying a message from his father. Damian didn't really care. He listened in dull interest, remembering key words to relay to his grandfather later. He let his hand run along the black fabric covering the throne, frowning as his finger caught a snagged thread. He reached down, pulling a dagger from his boot. A gasp came a guard to his left, but he ignored them. The Kryptonian stuttered over his words slightly, and the slight scuff of a boot over marble floors caused Damian to glance up.

The man had stepped back, a scowl fixed on his lips and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Damian raised an eyebrow, and in a swift movement, cut the thread. He returned the knife and turned to a servant, holding out the thread, nearly as long as his pinky. The servant paled but stepped forwards to take it. 

"See to it that this silk is replaced, and if I find another snagged thread, you'll find your windpipe is the next thing being snagged from its place."

The servant rushed to apologize and quickly hurried away to complete their new task. Damian turned back to the Kryptonian, indifference replacing the boredom of earlier.

"Go on," he encouraged, sitting with his back straight, one knee crossed over the other.

"Emperor Kal wishes to come to an agreement and form an alliance with the Ruler of the Earth," Jon-El finished, still watching Damian warily.

Damian hummed, making eye contact and keeping it, seeing if this alien would fidget and break. But he didn't, just steadily held Damian's gaze, not even twitching an eyebrow. Finally, knowing he had the man's full attention, he let his eyes scan down his body, fully appreciating his body now that he was stood. Damian was believed to not have emotions, to be some kind of animal, a demon. But that wasn't true. He still had emotions such as anger, hatred, desire, and lust. His eyes lingered over the Kryptonian's pelvis, wondering slightly if their anatomy was similar to human anatomy, what he could see now led him to believe so, judging from the bulge in the mans pants. The lingering gaze got him to fidget, shifting weight from one foot to the other.

"Tell me, Prince El, what will my empire gain from this treaty?" Damian asked finally, pulling his gaze back up.

"Emperor Al Guhl will be given a certain amount of our trained troops, which will rotate out twice in one of your earth years. Our armies are highly trained, and very powerful and will greatly assist in defending your planet from outer worldly influences, and from the rebels who wish to overthrow Emperor Al Guhl."

Damian chuckled. "You misheard me," he said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forwards. 

"I'm. . . Sorry? But I am sure I heard-"

"I did not ask what my grandfather will gain, I asked what _I_ would gain," he explained with a small smirk. "I'm inclined to not agree to this treaty if my grandfather will only gain more guards that will stop my plans."

The alien prince blinked twice, confused.

"I don't understand."

"I intend to overthrow my grandfather, murder him in this very room. This is why I agreed to this meeting, not to secure him an alliance, but myself and my future kingdom."

His eyebrows drew together. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Ra's is old and a fool. He is letting his kingdom slip and turning a blind eye to crime. He is no longer fit to rule and soon I will dispose of him. I tell you this so that when the time comes, you will have told your men to not stand in my way. I want your planet's allegiance. I do not want it to be with my grandfather."

There was a brief moment of silence. And then the alien nodded once, a small smirk forming over his lips.

"I understand, Prince Al Guhl."

"Now, what do you stand to gain from this alliance?" Damian asked, leaning back into the throne.

"Father wants only the promise of your assistance if a hostile force, such as a Lantern Corp were to attack Krypton. He wants nothing much, only peace between our planets, and offers sanctuary for your bloodline if anything were to happen on Earth to your kingdom, and asks for the same." 

Damian nodded, this treaty would be much easier for him then he previously thought. But he wasn't done.

"Once again, you misheard." Another confused look. "I asked what _you_ gained from this. What do you want, Prince El?"

Jon held a confused look, eyebrows furrowed. 

"I want only what my father wants."

"Do not play with me, Kryptonian, I am no fool."

Silence met that. Damian chuckled.

"I've done my research, just as I'm sure you've done yours. I know your brother will take the throne after your father, not you, I know you will get nothing from this. So why are you so keen on this? What do you get from your father gaining this?"

Jon still didn't respond, glancing sideways at Damian's servant, at the guards flanking Damian's throne, and he understood. 

"Go ahead."

Jon narrowed his eyes, Damian sighed and stood, reproducing the knife he had previously used. He turned, pulled back his arm and with one smooth movement, the knife was no longer in his hand, but instead buried into the servants chest. The man's face contorted into one of surprise and then collapsed, blood pooling on the floor. Damian scrunched his nose in disgust. 

"Ugh. That's going to stain my floor," he sighed and walked over, pulling his knife out. Then he looked up at Jon. "Do try to make less of a mess."

He nodded to the guards, and Jon obeyed, in the blink of an eye, he had crossed the room, grabbing the guard on the right of the throne. There was a crunch of bones, and that guard crumpled. Jon breezed past Damian and grabbed the second guard, hand squeezing around his windpipe. The guard squeaked and scratched at the Kryptonian's arm, fearful eyes shooting over to his Prince. Jon glanced over once more, and Damian rolled his hand, walking back to his throne. A squeeze and the man's eyes rolled back into his head. Damian collapsed back into the cushioned throne, watching Jon drop the now dead body. They were now alone in the throne room.

Jon looked at the dead bodies for a moment before turning and walking away, levitating slightly to avoid stepping in blood. He walked back to his spot in front of Damian's throne. They made eye contact again, and Damian felt a sense of satisfaction run through him. This alien was unafraid to kill when ordered, he could be useful to Damian, but first he had a question.

"So, Prince El, what _is it_ that you want?" He asked, sitting on the edge of his throne, wiping his knife off on the black silk.

Jon looked down, clenching his hands.

"I want power," he said, looking up again, his blue eyes flickering with red.

A wolfish smile formed itself on Damian's face. He stood again, stepping down two of the three steps leading up to the throne, he held out a ringed hand, palm down. Jon stepped forwards, gently taking Damian's hand, looking up at him.

"Align with me and power I will give you."

Jon didn't hesitate, just copied Damian's smile and then ducked his head, kissing Damian's hand, looking up at him.

"My Lord."

  
  


That meeting ended well, a verbal agreement formed between the two Princes and a paper agreement between the two empires. Damian was quite proud of himself. Cocky, even. The agreement had ended with a promise from them both, and then Jon headed back to his diplomat ship, supposed to wait until Ra's returned and re discuss the alliance with the man. Damian, however, had sat and watched as servants came and cleared away the bodies, and mopped up the blood. He just stared at the spot in the marble floor where the Kryptonian had occupied only thirty minutes ago.

This alliance would work well in his favor. Having the Kryptonian's on his side would be beneficial, it was risky, they were a liability, especially with their Emperor not wanting anything in return. That was definitely a liability, but with their Prince on his side . . . This could work.

"My Lord?" A timid voice squeaked, and he refocused his gaze on the servant standing nearby.

"What?" He asked boredly, moving to drape a leg over the arm of the throne.

"The Emperor wishes to speak with you, my lord," the servant whispered, holding out a data pad.

Damian held out his hand. The servant walked as close as possible without touching the steps, an offense punishable by death or mutilation. He leaned forwards, passing the data pad over. Damian glanced over to see the servants had finished cleaning up his mess.

"Leave me," he ordered.

They all rushed to obey. When the room was clear, Damian pressed a few buttons on the pad until it brought up a video of his grandfather. The elderly man was showing signs of his age today, and he was still in his battle armor, blood was still speckled on his cheeks and in his beard.

"Emperor," Damian greeted, bowing his head. 

"Grandson. How did the meeting go?"

"Well. We came to an agreement. The diplomat is waiting for your return to finalize details with you."

"Good. Make him comfortable in the fortress, we do not wish to be rude, no?"

"He insisted on returning to his ship, your majesty. I had already extended the invitation."

Ra's nodded as he considered this. "What do you think of them?"

Damian tilted his head to show his question.

"The Kryptonian."

"Hmm. They are interesting. Their Prince is quite clever but hides it behind a mask of ignorance and innocence. They want nothing of us but the promise of our military aid should another force decide to attack them, and asylum for their royal family should the people rise against them."

"And you agreed to this? Did it not-"

"I considered all scenarios, grandfather. The Prince was quite insistent that Emperor Kal wants only peace between our kingdoms. He seemed to be telling the truth."

Ra's was silent for a moment. "Very well, I shall return in a few days time. I trust you are keeping things well controlled?"

"Of course."

Ra's narrowed his eyes. "There's something else."

Damian hummed. "I wish to make an addition to our treaty."

He didn't know where this was coming from, but something told him this was the right move.

"Yes, grandson? What do you desire?"

"Their Prince. The younger one."

Ra's smiled slightly, a creepy expression that used to make Damian's skin crawl.

"Then he shall be yours, My Prince. How would you like him?"

"Alive. And willing, grandfather. I want this to be something his father has agreed upon. . . A gift from his family to ours."

Ra's chuckled.

"I shall see what I can do."

The screen went black, and Damian smiled to himself. With the Prince stuck on Earth soil, he would only be able to win him over further, and then the Kryptonian's wouldn't dare attack Earth, not with their precious Prince under his control.

Yes, this plan was coming together perfectly.

* * *

Jon watched his father rage on the other end of the holographic call. He boredly flicked the end of his whip. Something he had used just that day. It usually hung at his side in place of a sword. He only used it occasionally when a servant or soldier severely messed up. Such as today, when he had caught two engineers talking ill of Kal. He had handed out ten lashes each, and the engineers were crying for his mercy. Jon was more merciful than his father or brother, but even he could not ignore talk of treason. He watched the whip flick through his father's hologram, watching it distort and then snap back together, only for him to tug the whip back and cause it to flicker again. The whip was made of a normally soft material, laced with a strand of kryptonite that would not injure anyone by proximity, but instead would allow the whip to cut through Kryptonian flesh easily.

A crash brought Jon's attention back to the hologram of his father. The man was on a ship on his way to Earth. Jon had met with Ra's Al Guhl a day ago and drafted a treaty, Kal would arrive in two weeks to finalize and sign it. Krypton had been left in High Prince Kon-El's care.

Apparently, however, the man had been contacted privately to discuss another aspect of their treaty. An aspect that directly involved Jon. Specifically, Prince Al Guhl desired him to remain on Earth, permanently.

"He talked as if you were a prize! A mere trinket that I would give away to the demon that is their Prince! As if! You are far more important than any treaty we could ever make, even with the Corps!" Kal raged, tossing a table.

"Father," Jon hummed, boredly winding up his whip.

"I refuse! I will not give you up!"

"Father."

"They are arrogant and foolish-"

"Father!" 

Kal snapped his mouth shut, looking at Jon finally, a half charred _something_ in his hand. Jon couldn't even tell what it was anymore. He sighed, shaking his head. His father was annoying at best, complacent at worst. He let Kon and Kara push him around and coddled Jon like he was still a child. Jon had long since grown weary of this, which is why he begged Kon to get Kal to let him take this diplomatic mission. He needed to get off Krypton.

"If this is what they require to make the treaty, then do it. I know how important this is, so do you. The White Lanterns are breathing down our necks as is, let alone the Green ones. I'm willing to accept their stipulations."

"Jon, you don't know the things I know!" Kal exclaimed, his hologram stepping closer. "Jon, he murdered his own mother!"

"I am aware," Jon said flatly. "I know as much as you do, Kal. I did my research when I discovered who I would be meeting with."

_I know more than you_ , Jon thought smugly.

"You're willing to trade your life, your freedom, your chance of ruling away for a simple alliance?" Clark asked.

Jon felt rage burn through him and he stood, flicking his whip towards Kal's hologram, the man winced away, and Jon smirked in satisfaction. Kal had felt the bite of his son's weapon of choice once during a sparring match, had felt the intensity of his anger, it burned brighter than the flares of a red sun. He knew how quickly it could flare up.

"Do not pretend as if I have those things now, _Your majesty_ ," Jon spat out. "You keep me around only for my wisdom and battle tactics. We both know that if I have not taken a mate by the time Kon earns the kingdom, he will quickly marry me off like a mere prize just to keep me out of the way."

Kal scowled at his son, but knew better than to interrupt.

"I am not a child anymore, Father. I could be out there, leading armies with Kon. It is what you trained me for, and you know I am good at it. But instead you keep me hidden inside like the prize pet. If this is how I am useful to you, then so be it."

Besides, he knew Damian must have ulterior motives for this decision.

"I will talk to Prince Al Guhl the next sun cycle and see if we can come to an agreement you will be more comfortable with. I will contact you again then."

Jon quickly crossed the room and shut off the transmission. He leaned against the console for a moment before spinning, his whip flicking out and catching the chair he had been sitting it. He yanked and watched in satisfaction as the thing shattered against the wall. He took a deep breath and recoiled his whip, calming himself.

He needed to figure out what angle Damian was working and see if he could play into that. He knew the man's plan to overthrow his grandfather, and when Damian had dined with him two nights ago, he had briefly explain why he wished to kill Ra's, and Jon sympathized. Just as Ra's was no longer fit to rule Earth, Kal was unfit to rule Krypton. Jon wasn't even upset that Kon would be taking the throne. He wasn't a ruler, he was an enforcer. A soldier. Yes he was clever, quick with a strategy and even faster in a fight. But he didn't care for the formalities and stress that came with actually ruling. He was more concerned about Kon's recent blatant distrust of him. The older they got, the more distant Kon had gotten, and Jon was tired of it.

When he had told Damian of his desire for power, he didn't wish to overthrow his family. He didn't wish to rule Krypton. He just knew he was tired of being pushed aside as a diplomat or an advisor. And Damian seemed eager to acquiesce.

Jon's feet had carried him to his private chambers aboard the ship. He changed from the royal robes he had been wearing all day to loose black sleep clothes, tossing and turning as he tried to figure out a plan. Figure out how he could use Damian to his advantage. And then his thoughts drifted to Damian, to his emerald green eyes, ones that flickered with emotions that betrayed his careful mask of indifference. The ones that had led Jon to agree to double crossing Damian's grandfather, and in the end, his own father. His thoughts, usually carefully schooled, betrayed him, as he re-envisioned Damian, his honey skin, his black hair, how it had flowed loose when he came to dinner, framing his face and falling in waves, no doubt due to a prior hairstyle. He thought of how the man walked, body moving fluidly, gracefully like an Earth animal. And he thought of the man's body, of his lithe muscles, no where near Jon's bulk, but clearly still strong, even as slender as he was. 

His tired mind drifted even further, thinking of Damian's beautiful face, how it seemed almost feminine, accentuated by makeup. Everything about him bordered on feminine, his clothes, his body shape, his movements, his face. He was absolutely stunning, and when he had first seen the Prince, he had been grateful for the moment he had to compose himself. Jon's mind was taking a dangerous path as it considered Damian's beauty, plus the possibility of staying on Earth with Damian forever. He thought of what could happen, and got stuck on one situation in particular, continuing to imagine it further. One that had his cock throbbing and him reaching down to gently wrap his hand around his erection.

Later, he'd probably feel guilty for jacking himself off to an event that had never happened, and probably never would. But for now, the bliss that came after the orgasm was enough to drop him into the blackness of sleep.

The next day he woke up when the sun shot through his windows. He had set his programs to align the times the sun came in his windows with the times when it would be daylight over Damian's palace. Krypton's planetary rotations were longer than Earth's and he had yet to even begin to adjust for this. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and moved to get dressed, pulling on black pants and a gray tunic, this one was left untucked, his belt hidden just underneath it. His cape, as always, was clipped on top, and he pulled on his short black boots. With a final mess up of his hair, he clipped on his whip and went to check on his ship for the day, knowing he'd have to wait until their orbit came around to go visit the Prince.

As always, the ship was doing wonderfully, her Captain was steadfastly loyal to Jon, and Jon alone, which was why he had picked his own crew and ship instead of the diplomatic ship Kal usually sent. He didn't trust his brothers men, but he knew this crew. After a brief walk with the captain, Jon had a message sent to the palace soon to be below them and patiently waited for their response aboard the command deck.

"Your royal highness?"

Jon hummed, turning to face the crewman who had spoken.

"The palace says that they are awaiting your arrival."

"Good. Thank you."

He made eye contact with the captain and then turned, walking away, to the nearest launch bay, where he could fly down to Earth. When the barrier moved, he simply walked off, feeling his lungs complain as he took a breath of the emptiness of space. His body would survive. He dropped down, easily punching through Earth's atmosphere. His lungs complained a little louder. They never enjoyed transitioning atmospheres, and with Krypton being such a denser planet than Earth, switching to Earth atmosphere made it feel like he wasn't inhaling anything, the air so light and pure in oxygen. It made his head spin.

It only took him a short flight, thirty Earth minutes to reach Damian's palace. He called it a fortress, but it was nothing less than a grand palace. Damian had given him a full, private, tour the other day, and Jon had been amazed by how many similarities there were between Damian's palace and his Father's. The entire palace was decorated in green and gold and Jon had been wary as he walked around, not voicing his concerns about the very suspicious colors. Today, however, he landed outside the palace gates and was led to Damian by a simple servant, the young girl looked at her feet as she walked, and only whispered when she needed to talk to Jon. It amused him. She led him into a completely separate floor and wing of the palace and then stopped by a door that had guards on either side.

"His Royal Highness awaits you inside," she whispered.

"Thank you, that is all."

The girl hurried to make herself scarce. Jon chuckled and turned to the guards, one of whom turned and knocked on the door. Jon heard Damian's voice call out, and the guard pushed open the door, stepping inside.

"His Royal Highness, Prince Jon-El."

"Very good, thank you," Damian's smooth voice said. 

Jon stepped through the open door, and the guard immediately left. Jon realized he had been permitted into Damian's bed chamber, but that really wasn't important. Because sat on gray and gold cushions was Damian Al Guhl, his usual glittering decorations nowhere insight. He was sat, shirtless and shoeless, partially lounged back as servants fussed over his hair. He seemed completely relaxed and took a moment to scan Jon over. Jon took his own time, his eyes slowly running over Damian's gorgeous skin, pulled tight over muscles. He wondered how soft his skin was. Almost no scars were visible, not from this distance anyway, and it set something off inside Jon.

"Leave me," Damian said finally.

For a moment, Jon was confused, but the servants hurried to finish the braid they had put in Damian's hair and then all but ran out the door. The two Princes were alone. Jon stepped forwards, dropping to a knee, reaching out and taking Damian's hand, kissing the back of it.

"Your Imperial Majesty," he murmured, his lips still against Damian's soft skin.

He glanced up and spotted the pleased smirk and a flicker of something in the man's eyes. Something hungry. Damian pulled his hand back and Jon straightened, stepping back slightly. Damian was silent for a moment.

"You do know how to flatter a man," Damian hummed finally, clearly pleased, and motioned to the cushions beside him. "Please, sit."

Jon obliged, sitting and leaning back against the raised platform the cushions were sat against. Damian had one elbow on top of this platform, turned to face Jon, his head resting against one hand. The two Princes looked at each other. And then Jon looked away. Around the room.

It was clear the large open room he was sat in now was more of a living space, with the large cushion sofa, bookshelves stuffed to overflowing, the dining table in one corner that had more books and more papers. Over by the door was a weapons rack, filled with every kind of weapon Jon could imagine, and more. The raised platform behind them was empty, clear of any objects. The thick mats on the floor indicated that this was used for sparing or other similar activities. On opposite sides of the room were two doors, one most likely led into the actual bedroom, the other was probably a bathroom. The walls and floors were both the same as the entire castle, and while the walls were completely barren, there was a large ornamental rug in the middle of the lower half of the room. A gentle tug at his hip caused him to look down.

"What is this?" Damian hummed, his fingers trailing along the light gray whip.

"The only weapon I ever carry," Jon responded, reaching down and unclipping it, passing it over.

Damian took it, gently running his thumb along the round braided material. He wrapped his hand around the thick leather handle. It fit perfectly in Jon's hand, but it seemed big in Damian's. He examined the flared end, the band that held the tails together unless Jon was giving out lashes. Then he looked up.

"And why is that?"

"Because I don't need a weapon, not with my strength and speed."

"So why do you carry this."

Jon pulled back his sleeve, exposing his muscular forearm. He held out his hand, and Damian passed it back. He grabbed the whip near the end, bringing it down on his pale skin with a slight amount of force. Damian's eyebrow raised, but when Jon pulled the whip away, he seemed to understand. The blow had stung, but Jon would live. His forearm was now red, and there were two thin cuts, red blood already leaking out.

"Because it can break Kryptonian skin," Damian answered his own question.

Jon nodded, watching the blood in fascination for a moment. It wasn't often he saw his own blood. And then Damian reached over, his tan hand covering his injuries. Jon glanced up at his face. They were silent again. 

"What brings you to my fortress today, Prince El?" Damian asked, eyes on his arm, watching the blood that slowly leaked out from behind his fingers.

His arm was already itching, and Jon knew his body was already healing the small wounds, stopping the blood and scabbing over. But he kept his eyes on Damian.

"My father called me last night. He was not pleased."

A curious hum.

"Emperor Al Guhl called him to add a stipulation onto the treaty."

Another hum, and Damian's green eyes flicked up to him.

"A stipulation you gave him."

"Ah."

"Father wishes to say no. He would destroy the whole alliance because of this."

Damian leaned back against the wall, pulling Jon's arm with him until it was resting on the man's lap, his hand still clasped tightly around the injury. Damian didn't speak for a moment, his face a mask of indifference, but his eyes flickering with curiosity.

"And yet, here you are."

Jon smiled slightly. "Well with two weeks to wait for my father's arrival, I figured we would be able to come to an agreement that would please both of you."

Damian chuckled lightly, looking down as he removed his hand. The wounds had already scabbed over. The man looked at the blood drying on his palm, but made no move to clean it up.

"You are not opposed?" Damian asked, glancing over.

Jon hesitated, and then stood, beginning to pace slightly, considering how to say what he was thinking. Damian watched him, barely hiding his amusement. Finally Jon turned back to him.

"I am of no use on Krypton."

Damian's neatly trimmed eyebrow arched.

"I am no more than one of my Father's diplomats and occasionally an advisor. My brother and cousin do not trust me. I am of no more use than a Terran Princess of lore. I may as well be locked in a tower, held captive by a dragon, waiting for a knight in silver armor atop a white horse to come save me. My father is too protective of me and refuses to let me be a general, which is what I have been trained to do. I am nothing more then my title, which I earn only by birth, not by actions," he ranted, moving his hands as he spoke. "If I do not marry before my Father steps down, or dies, my brother will instantly give me away as nothing more than a prized family heirloom, just to get me out of his hair. I mean nothing to him."

Damian listened to his rant quietly, no emotions slipping past his mask.

"This is why I agreed to side with you. Why I made our alliance. I am tired of being useless and looked down upon."

"You want Krypton?"

Jon shook his head, and Damian seemed shocked.

"I do not wish to rule. I have no desire to be an Emperor. But I am not a mere trinket to be coddled and given away when my family is tired of me. Kon will make a better Emperor then Kal, but with his blatant mistrust of me, I am not safe there."

At this, Damian smirked.

"You agree to my stipulation then?"

"I do. If your family will sign the treaty, I will come to Earth, permanently."

Damian stood, movements fluid and graceful. He walked around a small table to reach Jon.

"You were not told of the rest of the stipulation, were you?" He said, voice smooth and low, almost as if he was trying to seduce Jon.

At his tilt of the head and confused expression, Damian chuckled lightly, stepping up close. It struck Jon, not for the first time, how much shorter Damian was, having to tilt his head up to look Jon in the eyes.

"You are to be mine. To do as I please. My prize, my gift," Damian practically purred out. "Alive and willing."

A shiver ran through Jon's body, Damian was close enough that he saw this, smirking and reaching up. His hand closed around Jon's throat, pressing slightly, but not enough to choke him. He could feel the sticky wetness of his own blood. They made eye contact, and Damian kept smirking. Jon considered what he had just been told, even as Damian kept his grip.

It sounded rather like he was being married off anyway.

"And what exactly is it you wish to do with me."

Damian's eyes flicked down, and that look alone gave Jon his answer.

"I haven't fully decided yet," Damian hummed out. "But did I not make a promise to give you power?"

Damian's hand left his throat, instead reaching up and lightly brushing back his hair.

"Help me get rid of my grandfather, and I will make you one of the most powerful beings on Earth. I will make you a general, a knight, whatever you desire," Damian murmured, a bloody thumb stroking Jon's cheek bone.

"Anything?"

"Well, not quite, anything. After all, you will still belong to me."

Jon felt a thrill of energy run through his body at that thought. Damian really was talking like he was going to own Jon at the end of all this. But this was seeming quite appealing.

"I want to be able to visit my family whenever I wish."

Damian's eyebrow arched again.

" _That's_ your only stipulation?" He asked, finally stepping away.

"Well, I have more, but something tells me they will be ignored."

"Tell me," Damian said, dropping back onto the sofa.

"Kryptonite. I don't want any of it anywhere near me."

Damian waved his hand dismissively. "Won't be an issue."

"I am not a servant or a pawn, you can not just dismiss me at any moment or order me around expect me to obey."

A shrug. "I'll do my best."

"I will not stand for being constantly monitored or guarded either. I am not a child or a prisoner."

This got him a long, silent look. Then Damian nodded once.

"So we have come to yet another agreement?"

"It appears so."

Damian gave a pointed look to the seat next to him, so Jon walked over, sitting next to him again. Damian extended a hand, and Jon shook it.

"I'm glad we could settle upon an arrangement."

Damian was giving him a wolfish smile, and it was mildly unsettling, but he didn't say anything, just nodded. When Damian dropped his hand, he turned, lounging and getting comfortable.

"Tell me about Krypton?"

Jon obliged, telling the Prince beside him about his homeworld, how different everything was, how dull everything on Krypton seemed compared to Earth's bright colors. He talked of their technology, of their history, of their government. He told Damian about their armies, and the wars they had fought and won. The Prince seemed mildly impressed, nodding as he listened, and occasionally asking questions. Jon stayed with Damian for another hour, just talking about his homeworld, and then telling the man about his brother, his obvious fear of Jon starting an uprising. Finally he decided to take his leave, excusing himself with the reason of needing to call his father. Damian stood with him.

"Come dine with me tonight," Damian offered. "Ra's will be gone, he's over seeing the appointing of a new governor of Australia."

Jon nodded, giving a small smile. "I will plan on doing so."

He reached down and picked up Damian's hand, consequently the one with his blood on it. He kissed it again, holding eye contact with Damian.

"Until then, Imperial Majesty."

Damian hummed with pleasure. "I quite like the sound of that."

He pulled his hand from Jon's and gently stroked his cheek.

"You are quite the clever one, aren't you?"

Jon just smiled in return. Damian dropped his hand and nodded towards the door, so Jon picked up his whip, winding it and clipping it to his belt and then took his leave. He passed Damian's guards, and they gave him a startled look before running for the door, and he chuckled, knowing there was blood dried on his throat and cheek. He exited the palace, flying back up to meet his ship. He would wait to tell his Father their arrangement, he wasn't going to spoil his good mood for dinner with Damian.

* * *

Damian watched the Kryptonian walk out his door with smug satisfaction. Things were going just how he wanted. And having the alien address him with the title of an Emperor. Well that just served to stroke his ego, didn't it? But it did sound very nice, was very pleasing to hear the title in reference to him, and he imagined it only helped that it was spoken by a being so powerful that he could crush Damian.

Seconds after the Prince had left, guards had burst into his room, looking startled. They saw Damian, sitting shirtless on his sofa, and were immediately even more confused.

"Your Highness, we saw the Kryptonian with blood on him and we thought-"

"There's your first mistake," Damian said with an eyeroll. "You're not paid to _think,_ now are you?"

"No, your highness, our apologizes."

Damian held up his hand, dried with dark, almost black blood. Kryptonian blood was apparently darker than human blood.

"It was his blood. I am unharmed, now leave."

The guards nodded and obeyed, slipping back out the door. Damian shook his head and walked into the bedroom, and through to the bathroom. He washed off his hands, then went to his closet, pulling on a loose white tunic, the sleeves loose around his arms, but tight on his wrists. He tucked it into his pants and then put his belt on, attaching his sword and pulling on his boots, then heading out to deal with some military matters. Or that's what his guards would think. In reality, he needed to tell his generals the newest addition to his plan. He collected them, one by one, until they were all stood around him in a small training room, far from the door, and speaking softly.

"The Prince had agreed to my conditions, he will be convincing Emperor El to agree, and he shall be residing on Earth."

"My Lord, not to question your decisions, but is the Kryptonian not a liability? Will he not tell his father your plans?"

Damian chuckled, looking at the speaker, his most trusted general, Maya Ducard. Nobody. The one person whose life he had spared, and he never regretted it. She served him loyally, rarely questioning him, and even then there was just cause.

"No. The Prince feels much as I do. I have already won his loyalty. He will keep my secret, and I, his. And when the time comes, he will make sure no one can stop me from completing my mission."

Maya bowed her head in acceptance of this. Damian explained how they were to proceed, and then a knock at the door pulled his attention.

"Look busy," he instructed.

The generals all immediately launched into fake spars. Damian walked over to the door and yanked it open.

"What?!" He snarled, looking down at the young servant boy stood in front of him, shaking with fear.

"Your Royal Highness," he squeaked, stammering over his words. "His Imperial Majesty requests your presence in the throne room."

Damian grunted. "Fine. Go."

The servant scrambled away. Damian turned back to his generals.

"It seems I am needed, go about your usual duties, and continue to keep an ear out and an eye open at all times."

The generals nodded and saluted him. He turned and walked out, walking through the fortress to get to the throne room. He didn't wait for the guards to announce him, just shoved the giant oak and steel doors open and strode down the long green rug to his grandfather's throne. Once in front of the steps, he dropped to a knee, head bowed, one hand pressed against his chest.

"Arise, Prince, and approach."

Damian straightened, looking up at his grandfather, and then walking up the few steps. Ra's smiled wolfishly at him as Damian came and stood on his right side.

"The guards tell me the Kryptonian visited you."

"They do not lie."

"What for?"

"He wished to discuss the treaty, specifically my request."

Ra's white eyebrow shot up. "His father told him?"

"He said Kal was not pleased."

"With the response I was given, I expected Kal to turn his ship around and scratch the whole treaty."

Damian shrugged, looking down at his grandfather's wrinkled, elderly face.

"What came of your meeting today then, my heir."

"Prince El is going to accept my request. He will discuss it with his father."

Ra's eyebrow arched higher. "And what did you offer him that caused him to agree."

"Safety from his brother."

Ra's rolled his hand to encourage Damian to explain. Damian crossed his arms, eyes following his grandfather's signet ring.

"Jon-El believed Kon-El distrusts him, he thinks his brother believes he is planning to commit mutiny and overthrow Kon-El to take the throne. He believes the High Prince intends to get rid of him, whether through marriage or death, before or shortly after Kon-El becomes Emperor."

"Do you believe this is true?"

"I believe Jon-El believes it. And nothing much really matters, does it?"

"No I suppose not," Ra's said with a hum, looking away, then up at his grandson. "So the treaty is still under way?"

"From our side, yes. It will remain to be seen what Emperor El decides."

"Very good. I'll be leaving shortly, as always, the fortress is in your capable hands, grandson," Ra's said, standing.

"Thank you, grandfather."

Damian watched the old man walk through a side door, exiting and hopefully disappearing for the next day or so. He smiled to himself and slid into the throne, relaxing into the cushions. Either the old man was clueless to Damian's uprising, or he was waiting to see what played out. Either way, Damian had an ace up his sleeve.

After a brief time spent considering the days events, Damian made his way back to his room, needing to make himself presentable for his dinner with Prince El. He bathed and then called his servants in, allowing them to have their way and adorn him with jewels and gold. One was tasked with putting makeup on his face, a glittering gold eyeshadow look, and lightly highlighting the prominent parts of his face. They knew their job by now, and he didn't try to do it for them, just moved his face this way and that as needed. By the end of it, his hair had been swept into a neat, complicated bun, his crown stuck partially through the back, and a comb with emeralds and diamonds stuck into the front of the bun. His makeup had been done skillfully, as always, defining his features perfectly. 

He was given a pair of tight black pants, over which he wore a green tunic, almost like a dress, the back of the tunic significantly longer than the front, which reached just past his belt. The back went down just past his knees. The tunic was tight on his chest, while the sleeves were looser, but the material there was see through, and allowed view of his toned arms. The tunic had a slight collar, and was left slightly unbuttoned, a black diamond necklace visible from where it rested on his chest. A golden ear cuff, chained to an emerald stud was on his right ear, and on his left was a matching stud. Rings were placed on his fingers, and black flat soled shoes were put on his feet. The final touch, applied just as a guard came to tell him that Prince El had arrived, was a deep red lipstick.

"Take him to the dining room, I will be there shortly," Damian ordered. The guard nodded and rushed away.

Damian stood from his sofa, taking graceful steps into the bedroom to turn to the full length mirror on one wall and look at himself. The outfit was gaudy, it screamed of his power and riches, but he loved it. After his mother's execution, he had taken to embracing more feminine appearances. He found it made people underestimate him, think him weaker than he really was, and that, more times than not, gave him the upperhand. For a brief moment he allowed himself to consider how Prince El would react when he walked in like this, and he decided he quite liked his imagined results. So what if he was trying to catch the Kryptonian's eye. The alien was attractive, and had so far shown interest. It was no matter, however, he was going to be stuck here with Damian, if the Prince didn't turn his head now, he had plenty of time.

Damian armed himself, and then set off across the castle, to the royal dining room. His servants tailing him loosely. He turned to them just before entering, and one jumped forwards to quickly pin a disobedient section of hair up. They fussed over him for a moment before stepping back and nodded. When he nodded in return, they took their leave. He pushed open the double doors, letting them open fully and then slam closed once he had passed. He enjoyed his theatrics. Prince El was standing by the window, looking out over the Oasis that was the fortress while servants set the table and prepared the food. When the doors slammed closed, he turned, and Damian was pleased to see him freeze the moment his eyes landed on Damian. They looked at each other for a moment, neither speaking.

Jon was wearing the same pants as earlier, but his cape had been left behind, a blue and red tunic replacing it, that same dark red as his cape. The crest of El was missing on this shirt, and Damian was quite glad, it was an ugly emblem in his opinion. This shirt was tight, the transitions in the colors placed at the right spots to highlight and draw your eyes to his muscles. That whip of his was attached to his belt, which lay over the top of the tunic, dark gray with a silver buckle.

"Prince El," Damian greeted, waiting as a servant scampered past before walking closer.

"Your Highness," Jon greeted in return, his eyes still scanning over Damian's body openly. 

When Damian was close enough, Jon stepped forwards and initiated what was apparently becoming his normal greeting. Kissing Damian's hand. He probably should insist that it wasn't necessary. But he didn't mind. Jon's eyes were now on his face, taking in every detail, the expression on his face carefully controlled, but the look in his eyes screamed desire.

"Shall we sit?" Damian asked, pulling his hand back from Jon's smooth one.

A simple hum was his answer, so he turned, walking back to the table. The Al Guhl's had long observed the custom of sitting on cushions or mats at a low set table to eat, and still did. Damian took his place at the head of the table, he always sat opposite his grandfather, and Jon sat on his left, looking confused for a moment by the table. Damian chuckled and explained.

"Cross your legs like this," he instructed, moving to show Jon.

The Prince nodded in understanding, adjusting and wiggling a bit to get comfortable before settling. The first course was soon served, and Jon once again looked confused. Damian decided in that moment that adjusting the Kryptonian to Earth customs was going to be amusing.

"It is called Tabbouleh, a traditional salad from my homeland," Damian explained, picking up his utensils and beginning to eat.

"It's very green. And . . . It smells sharp." Jon watched him for a moment before seeming to understand and beginning to eat.

They were quiet through the majority of dinner, the main course being Iraqi masgouf. Jon took one bite of it and looked like he was in love, eating eagerly. Dinner was served with Arak, and desert, Baklava, was served with Raki.

"Okay, I have this to say about Earth," Jon said after his last bite of baklava.

"Hmm?" Damian asked, leaning back on a pillow, he was full, and tired.

"The food here is so flavorful! Like everything already has so much more intense smells, but Rao, the food."

Damian chuckled. "And that was just one meal. There's so much more for you to taste. One day I will take you traveling, and you can try the best cuisine from every culture."

Jon grinned at him, not the sly and clever grins he had been seeing so far. This one seemed genuinely happy. A rare emotion to be seen in the Al Guhl fortress.

"That sounds wonderful."

Damian had to look away from that bright smile, finishing his Raki and looking towards the windows. A servant walked in, lurking by the door.

"What is it?" Damian asked, not looking over.

"My Lord. . . The Dragon bat."

Damian arched an eyebrow. This servant was not one he recognized, which meant he never dealt with her personally. She was basically shaking.

"What about him."

"He's . . . " She swallowed hard.

"He's _what_ , child? Eaten everyone? Gone rogue? Finally decided to get his revenge?" Damian asked, bored.

"He's escaped."

Damian sighed, glancing over at Jon, who looked amused.

"He probably sniffed out a female in heat. He'll be back. In the meantime, make sure everything is properly cleaned and prepared for his return. And make sure plenty of food is waiting for him, or else I _will_ let him eat _you_."

The girl squeaked and ran away. Damian shook his head, turning back to his guest.

"What was that about?" Jon asked, sipping his Raki.

"One of my pets, Goliath," Damian hummed, watching Jon swirl liquid around his glass.

"One of? Do you have many pets?"

"Oh yes. None more here, though. I have my Great Dane, at my fortress, and a Jaguar who usually travels with me, but he was recently injured so I left him at home."

"We're going to ignore that I have no clue what any of those creatures are and talk about the fact that you have your own fortress."

Damian blinked in confusion, tilting his head.

"Of course?"

"You don't live here?"

"Oh, for the most part, yes. The fortress used to by my mother's, but after her execution, it was given to me. I mostly use it when I'm recovering from an injury or just need to be away from my grandfather. Todd is watching it for the moment."

Jon stiffened at the mention of his mother, and Damian knew why. He probably had been told how Damian had been the one to drive a sword through her heart. 

"Maybe I can take you there later," Damian suggested, standing. "Come."

He heard footsteps following him as he left the dining hall, heading out to the castle courtyard. Jon didn't speak as they walked, even with as long of a walk as it was, and Damian was just fine with that. He exited the palace and walked down the short path that led into the climate controlled gardens. Jon followed him in, looking around.

"Rao, this is . . . " He breathed out, eyes wide.

"The gardens. Many exotic flowers and insects are housed here, watch your feet," Damian explained, motioning to a beautiful butterfly that was resting on the ground not far from them.

They slowly walked around the garden, Damian pausing to point out and name a flower or insectoid every once in a while. Jon just took in all the bright colors with an awed expression.

"It is beautiful," Jon hummed as they neared the exit.

"It is one of the few places I can relax," Damian admitted, turning to look over the green plants again.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and he looked up into sincere blue eyes.

"Thank you for sharing it with me."

Damian nodded, turning sharply and walking away, his heart pounding. Maybe wooing the Kryptonian prince was a bad idea. Jon followed him out, and Damian could hear him chuckling.

"Damian."

He paused, turning back, confused. Up until now, Jon had been insistent upon calling him by his proper titles. Jon was standing in the middle of the courtyard, several feet away.

"Thank you, for dinner, but I think I should return to my ship."

Damian nodded once, walking closer. Jon offered a smile, reaching for his hand again. Damian pulled it away.

"You don't have to keep doing that," he said, frowning.

Jon tilted his head, retracting his own hand, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"Kissing my hand. It's not necessary.*

"Ah. It's that not human custom?"

". . . You do not have to do it."

Jon smiled again, more of a sly smirk then anything. "You are my Emperor now, no? What form of greeting would you rather I use?"

Damian's eyes flickered around the courtyard.

"Be careful what you say," he hissed.

"My apologies, my Lord."

Damian scowled at him. "How about just bowing.*

Jon gave a low bow. "Like so?"

"Yes. That will suffice."

"Very well. Contact my crew if you need anything at all," Jon said, glancing around quickly before lowering his voice. "Your Imperial Majesty."

Damian couldn't help the small smile. Jon bowed again and then stepped back, suddenly levitating. Damian waved him off and the Kryptonian shot away, into the night sky. Damian chuckled to himself, the Kryptonian was turning him into a fool. He turned and walked back inside, heading to the throne room to uphold his duties as stand in Emperor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love our future murder husbands :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it or at least are intrigued, and I'm sorry for the daunting size of this first chapter. Part is a better name, I feel. First part? First book? We'll figure it out.
> 
> Keep an eye out or subscribe for future updates!!


	2. Decisions Are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed! I changed the rating on this story. I just felt more comfortable changing it to E.
> 
> That's all I have to say. Warnings will be in tags as always.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

Damian was not pleased.

He was enraged, actually.

He was _supposed_ to be monitoring the treaty signing. He was _supposed_ to be making sure things went _his_ way and that they would be favorable for _him_ in the future.

Instead he had been sent to North America to deal with yet _another_ rebel uprising. This time calling themselves the Justice League. His father's cousin had been quite useful, infiltrating this league and feeding him information from day one. They were planning an attack on Metropolis, one of the capital cities in North America, and frankly, the Al Guhl's couldn't stand for that. He had been gone from the fortress for a week. A week spent battling these imbeciles and unregistered metahumans. He hated them. Loathed them with a passion.

The only plus to this week was that he had captured Timothy Drake, his father's "sidekick", a man Ra's had long wished to have in his claws. He had driven a sword through Richard Grayson, his father's previous protege. And he was about five minutes from catching up to his father, Bruce Wayne. Oh he would have so much fun driving a sword through his heart. Or maybe he'd keep the man alive, watch him wither away into nothingness in a cold damp cell. Either would be pleasing, admittedly, but Damian suspected he would be most satisfied with killing his father in combat. Then he could finally be with Talia, like the woman always desired. Damian chuckled at the thought. How fitting that they should both die by his hand, for nearly the same reason.

No one would take his kingdom from him. Not when he was this close.

"Your Royal Highness!"

Damian looked up from his map to meet eyes with General Ducard as she rushed into the building he had set up base in. She was grinning, her mask pulled up, and eyes bright with joy.

"Yes, Ducard?"

"We've got the Bat. And better yet." she stepped forwards, holding out a data pad. "The Atlantian."

Oh maybe this week was turning around for him. He took the data pad and looked to see the two, a mortal and a demigod, bound as equals, struggling as they were shackled, the meta bound with power suppressors. He smirked and looked up at Maya.

"Excellent work," he purred out, standing.

He followed her across what had become a battlefield, bodies of rebel sympathizers strewn across the streets, glass windows shattered, automobiles flipped over. Occasionally he passed a meta or two, the mythological ones called Hawkman and Hawkgirl, a telepath, a speedster. But he didn't care, stepping over them. Maya led him to a small convience store, the insides completely emptied, the two prisoners bound even tighter, guards hanging onto the chains. He stepped inside, and immediately any guard not holding down the prisoners saluted, murmuring some greeting. Damian smirked, walking over to the Atlantian, crouching in front of him.

"It truly is a shame, _King_ Arthur. You could've ruled your city, protected your people, had you been less of a fool.

The man grit his teeth and looked up, clearly struggling to talk with the electrical charges running through his body.

"Not if it meant submitting to a man like you."

Damian smiled, but he couldn't see that, not due to the black mask that covered his lower face, only his eyes and up visible. He reached forwards, grabbing the Atlantian's blonde hair and yanking, tilting his face up.

"General, how do you think the Emperor would wish me to deal with this scum?" He asked, not even looking back.

"He would want his head on a platter, Your Majesty."

Damian hummed. "See that it is so."

"Arthur!" The Batman cried, struggling against his bonds.

"It's okay, bats. We both knew this was what would happen," The Atlantian responded as Maya yanked him to his feet. "It was an honor serving with you."

Damian watched as Maya and the guards led the rebel out, and then he turned to his father, satisfaction filling his bones.

"Aww, how sweet, did you really think you could have alliances and I wouldn't take them from you?" He asked, stalking over to his father and ripping his cowl off.

Damian chuckled at the shocked look on the man's face, the tears pricking at his eyes.

"Pathetic."

"Who are you?" Bruce breathed out, his face wiping of all emotion.

"Do you really not know, or are you simply in disbelief after all these years?"

The ex-billionaire stared at Damian in utter confusion. He reached up and pulled off his own mask, handing it off to a guard and crouching in front of his father. While the man in front of him had pale, scarred skin, and blue eyes, brighter than Jon's, Damian could still recognize the similarities between him and his father.

"I am Prince Damian Al Guhl, heir of the demon, future Emperor of Earth, son of the Bat."

Understanding and pain flashed across Bruce's eyes.

"So Talia wasn't lying."

"Ah, yes. My traitorous mother, she did not lie to you, unfortunately, and for that I will envy you."

"Talia, is she. Where. . . "

"She had a personal meeting with my blade," Damian said with a shrug. "I executed her."

"You're a monster."

"I'm your Emperor," Damian spat, straightening and slapping Wayne.

"You're level of authority does not dictate whether your crimes are forgiven. You have failed this plan-"

"Oh, for fucks sake. You must've associated with Queen," Damian said with an eyeroll, hitting Bruce with a fierce right hook, knocking him unconscious.

"Put him aboard my aircraft. We're ending this uprising tonight."

"Yes, My Lord."

Damian watched the guards pull Wayne's unconscious body along behind them. He put his mask on, and walked out, his armor moving easily as he headed down to the last point of combat. The last fighters were mere children, one of whom threw themselves at Damian's feet and begged to be spared, the others who boldly stood their ground until Damian's soldiers cut them down easily. Damian turned his attention to the blonde archer at his feet.

"Sit up, child, stop your begging."

The girl, dressed in red, sat up, wiping her eyes. Damian easily slit her throat, pushing her body back to lie with her friends one final time. He turned and walked away, back to the command center. Within an hour, reports were flooding in of every rebel attack force surrendering or dead in metropolis. In the next hour, relief crews were helping clean up and provide aid to innocent civilians. Damian may be cruel, but the civilians in Metropolis were typically very law abiding, and winning them over to his side was always important. He instructed Maya on what to say in news reports and then promptly left with his own personal guard, heading back for the fortress with his prizes. His grandfather would be pleased. 

On their way back, Damian rested for a short while, before beating the actual shit out of Bruce in the attempt to get information out of him involving the rebels. Drake was sat nearby, forced to watch, but Damian wasn't allowed to touch him, and he knew this, making snide comments. Damian ignored him, grilling Bruce.

"Oh, my son. I'm sorry I never freed you," Brucr murmured, looking up through swollen eyes.

"I do not need freed," Damian hissed, choking Bruce now. "I do not need you. I did not _need_ mother, and I do not need Ra's. Just because I carry your DNA does not make me your son. You are less of my father then my childhood tutor, and they cut out his tongue for a twelfth of what you have done."

Bruce just sighed. "Then kill me, Damian. I won't tell you anything Kate hasn't already."

"Oh, no. I do not need information from you, not truly. You are alive for my amusement."

Damian punched Bruce once more on the jaw, watching the man fall to the floor.

"Tie him up next to Drake. Keep an eye on them," he ordered, pulling his mask back on, turning away.

He had places he needed to be. Prince El knew his job. He knew he was to guarantee specific parts of the treaty were left untouched. But Damian didn't quite trust him yet, despite him having followed every single one of Damian's orders so far. He itched to call his grandfather, give a status report, gloat over his victory, but he decided it would be more satisfying to wait and make a grand entrance. The one medical staff he had on board approached.

"If it pleases his Royal Highness, I would like to bandage your wounds," She murmured gently.

"Go ahead."

He sat down and removed the armor that would block her from his new, and old, injuries. She set about gently treating and bandaging them. Damian didn't miss the eyes of his father and Drake watching his every move. He just relaxed back as the woman bandaged his left thigh, closing his eyes. After a while the two prisoners started talking.

"Are you okay, B?"

"I've had worse, Tim."

A snort. "Yeah, only because Bane broke your back."

"Are you okay?"

"Well I haven't eaten in a few days, I feel light headed and like I'm going to throw up. But. . . "

There was some silence for a moment.

"Did. . . Dick?"

"I don't know, Tim. Donna swept him away as soon as he was brought in. It was pretty bad. What happened?"

"He happened."

Damian smirked, opening his eyes and looking over to meet the two rebels gaze.

"I put my sword through his stomach. You should really arm your soldiers better," he said, standing now that the nurse was done, he began reattaching his armor.

"He wasn't a soldier, you son of a bitch! He was my brother!"

Damian paused, turning back to Tim, head tilted slightly. Then he smiled, his bone chilling smile.

"That is a fair assessment of Talia, yes."

Tim grit his teeth and glared at Damian.

"Fuck you."

"Oh. No." Damian walked over, crouching in front of the man who looked alarmingly similar to his father. "I have other people for that. You may be free from my wrath now, Drake. But one day. . . . "

Damian chuckled, reaching up to push the man's black hair out of his face. The moment he lifted his hand, Bruce lunged against his restraints, trying to intercept what he interpreted as a blow. Damian glanced sideways at him.

"Dad, no," Tim breathed out, stiff in front of Damian's wrathful glare.

"Oh? _Dad_. So in lieu of me, you've made yourself busy adopting and training children?" Damian questioned, looking between them. "But of course, I knew this. In fact, I was told a great deal about you, Father, by one of your previous protege."

The hopeful look that shot through Bruce's eyes was laughable.

"Jason?" He gasped out.

Damian hummed, standing. "Yes. He's quite useful, a wonderful spy and assassin. He was so pleased when I let him take out the Joker, that the next day he pledged his allegiance to me, and has become quite the general."

"That was Jason?!" Tim exclaimed, no doubt thinking of the bloody example the League had made of the Joker.

This was what they did to terrorists, they had said. Damian chuckled at the memory.

"Yes. Oh he'll be quite pleased when he finds out I got my hands on you. Maybe I'll let him come see you."

"My lord."

Damian looked over to the pilot who had stepped out of the cockpit.

"Yes?"

"General Ducard is calling for you."

"Very well. Keep them still, and silent. Do not take your eyes off them for a second."

Damian walked into the cockpit, sitting down in the co-pilot's chair and waiting for the call to clear.

"Your Majesty," she greeted when she realized she was now talking to Damian.

He nodded, so she continued.

"We've cleared the city, and relief crews are finishing up. There were minimal civilian casualties, more injured."

"Good. Make sure it is blamed on the rebels, we need the people to keep trusting us. Wrap things up there and then join me."

"Yes, my lord."

"Anything else?"

"No, my lord."

"Very well, report to me when you arrive."

Damian ended the call, watching clouds fly by outside the aircraft.

"How long?"

"A few hours, my lord."

Damian smiled. A few hours until he could burst into whatever room his grandfather was in, hopefully with the Kryptonians, and brag over his victory. Yes, this was going to be perfect.

* * *

"This palace is very impressive, Ra's."

"Thank you, Kal. It took quite a while to build, but I could not have been more impressed with the results. Ah, here we are."

Jon followed in mild boredom as his Father and Ra's Al Guhl walked into what appeared to be a study, books and scrolls lining the room, a giant desk in near center. Ra's walked around the desk and sat down, while Kal stood in front of it. Jon stood off to the side, in front of the guards, but behind his father.

The two Emperor's couldn't be less alike. Kal was tall, broad in frame, muscular, and his body screamed power. He smiled and laughed and flicked between emotions faster than lightning. He wore reds, blues, and silvers. Ra's was shorter, thinner, built more agile, like Damian. He seemed always angry or unamused, and had that creepy smile that sent chills down Jon's spine. Ra's wore greens, golds, and black. While Kal didn't show a single sign of his advancing age, Ra's was clearly old, white hair, a decently long gray beard, wrinkles on his face. Jon had disliked the man the first exchange they had, which contrasted wildly to his first opinion of Damian.

A week and a half ago, Jon had convinced Kal to agree to the treaty, even with the stipulation of him having to stay on Earth. He had lied and manipulated Kal into believing him that this wasn't anything other than Damian wanting to control him. That's solely what it was, but Kal didn't need to know that. Kal had bitterly agreed, and continued his course to Earth. He had arrived yesterday, and spent the evening and next morning resting from traveling. Today, however, was all about business, getting the treaty signed and enacted. Jon had a very important task.

Damian had been sent away a week ago. Apparently there was a significant uprising in a town called Metropolis, and Damian had been sent to deal with it so Ra's could be present for Kal's arrival. They hadn't heard much news of the rebellion, but Jon didn't typically go around sticking his nose in other planet's business. He was just mildly concerned because he had recently shifted his life plans to include being stuck here on Earth. And if Damian was killed, there would be no reason for him to be here. 

"What is this line, why is it here?" Ra's was saying, pointing at something and turning it for Kal to see.

The man read it and frowned, turning to Jon, who had drafted the whole thing.

"Jon?"

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty?"

"I- stop that, you know very well you don't need to do that. Get over here and explain this."

Jon hummed and stepped over, reading the line they were discussing. The one line Damian had been insistent was to remain in the treaty. The one line he needed for his whole plan to work.

"That's there for posterity, Father. Do you not want this alliance to carry over in High Prince Kon-El's reign, and eventually Prince Al Guhl's?"

The two Emperor's exchanged a look.

"Though I am aware that that will not happen for a while, I deemed it best to include, considering one never knows what may happen, with war creeping up on Krypton. After all, you would not want for Kon to be left with no support, should anything happen to you."

Another looked passed between the emperor's. Ra's had the credit to look mildly suspicious, but Kal just shrugged.

"It does seem reasonable. I believe Prince Kon-El would agree to this."

"Something tells me Prince Damian already has," Ra's said, eyes narrowed.

Jon raised an eyebrow, turning to the Emperor.

"The Prince did suggest it, yes, for the interest of his future empire. He expressed concern that should anything happen to you, he would have a troop of potentially hostile soldiers stuck on his planet. He wanted to make sure there was no basis for Krypton to pull out of the treaty when he eventually inherited the kingdom."

"Very well. If you deem it necessary, _Prince_ El."

Jon shot a sweet smile at Ra's, thinly veiling his contempt for the man stood behind the desk. He stepped back and let the two men continue discussing the treaty. He heard an aircraft land outside the fortress, and raised an eyebrow, wondering who that could be.

"Jon, what's this word?"

Ra's gave a snort of laughter as Kal pointed a word out to Jon. 

"Oh. Um, it means. . . " Jon searched for the words in Terran to explain it. "It just means that this treaty is between our two empires, and none others."

"Ah."

Jon chuckled. Kal had a fairly extensive knowledge of Terran, but as Jon was learning, not even people on Earth understood the language. He had spent the trip to Earth studying up on their common tongue so he would be able to speak it fluently enough. The men finally agreed on this draft, and Kal was moving around the desk to sign it when the doors slammed open. A flurry of movement happened at once. The two Kryptonian guards that had come with Kal separated, one moving in front of Jon, the other running to Kal and forming a particle barrier to protect the emperor. This happened all at once, and the moment everything settled, Jon focused in on the person who had burst into the room, and immediately recognized him.

Damian had, as Jon learned, a flare for dramatics, and this entrance was certainly no exception. He had thrown the wood doors open, allowing them to practically slam into the walls as he strode through, two guards caught them to prevent them from crashing shut. Damian was clearly fresh from battle, still in his black and gold armor, blood stains present on nearly every inch of it. There was blood smeared across his forehead, splattered on his skin and the black mask he wore over his mouth and nose. His black hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and Jon could see chunks of it dried together from, most likely, blood. He was a gruesome sight, it almost made Jon sick. And his eyes. His eyes sparkled with something he couldn't name.

The Prince walked straight up to the desk, falling to a knee and bowing to Ra's, head lowered, his sword now resting on the floor.

"Emperor, please forgive my intrusion."

"Rise and Report, grandson."

Damian stood and looked over at Jon, and despite the black mask, he could tell the man was smiling. It made him shiver.

"The rebel force has been crushed, many of their leaders have been killed or captured, the rest have crawled into holes to lick their wounds. General Ducard and her forces remained to oversee the city through clean up and make sure no other rebels crawl out from the woodwork."

"And why did you not stay?" Ra's asked with narrowed eyes.

"Because, I have something that I think will please you," Damian answered, turning back towards the doors. "Lieutenant!"

Jon watched as four soldiers walked in, a man dragged between each pair. They looked similar, like father and son, matching Kal and Jon in hair and eye color. The obviously older one had been beaten, and judging from the blood on Damian's knuckles, likely by the Prince. Despite the blood, swollen face, and cuts on his face, Jon noted that he looked surprisingly like Damian, enough to be his father. And it occurred to him that Damian had never once mentioned his father, just his mother. The younger man was untouched other then dried blood matting together his short hair, some of it had dried down his forehead. They were both tightly bound and gagged, but the moment the younger one saw Ra's, he screamed and thrashed away. The older one was trying to yell at him through his gag, trying to silence him.

"Very good, my Prince!" Ra's exclaimed, walking around the desk.

Jon watched as the Emperor walked over to his grandson, putting a hand on the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together briefly.

"I am also pleased to report that Richard Grayson will be out of our hair for a while, if not permanently," Damian hummed, reaching up to pull off his mask, revealing that the splattered blood reached under the black mask too. "I took great pleasure in running my sword through his intestinal track."

Ra's laughed deeply, kissing Damian's forehead before turning to their prisoners. He stood in front of them for a moment.

"I am quite pleased, Damian. You have done well."

"General Ducard executed the Atlantian last night," Damian added.

Jon didn't miss the horrified sob that came from the older man. Ra's laughed again.

"Good."

Jon nudged his guard, the Kryptonian looked down at him then stepped aside. Damian looked over at Jon, scanning him over quickly, the look he was given made him shiver. Damian chuckled, looking back at Ra's, not even sparing a glance at Emperor Kal. 

"I wonder, why did you keep them alive?" Ra's asked.

"I knew your long desire to capture Drake, and I felt I would derive more pleasure from watching my father suffer."

_Oh Rao, this was Damian's father._

"That and I thought Todd might like to punish the man who failed to avenge him."

"Very good. You have made me proud, Prince Damian."

"What would you like done with them, Imperial Majesty?"

"Put them in separate cells, we'll deal with them further later, right now we have an Alliance to finish."

Jon saw Damian's father's eyes flick between Ra's and Kal, and then to Jon. The man's eyes widened and he went pale, even as guards dragged them to their feet and pulled them out of the room. Kal dismissed his guards so they walked back over to the door, hands clasped in front of them as they watched quietly. Damian finally turned to the Kryptonian Emperor, once again bowing in front of him.

"Emperor. I beg for your forgiveness for my rudeness," Damian murmured, keeping his head lowered.

"All is forgiven, Prince Damian, matters of war needed addressed."

Damian glanced up at him and when the man nodded, the Prince stood, walking over to stand beside Jon.

"Now, where were we?" Kal asked Ra's.

Jon glanced down at Damian, and they nodded to each other.

"Is everything going to plan?" Damian murmured softly.

"Not here," Jon shot back, thumbs in his belt.

Damian hummed in response, watching the two Emperor's.

"You look like your father."

"And you look like yours. . . He's a rebel?"

"He's _the_ rebel. He has led their forces for longer then I've been alive, and it pleases me greatly to finally have caught him."

"Well, congratulations then. And welcome back."

Damian chuckled, looking up at Jon.

"Thank you, Prince El."

The treaty had been signed. The two Emperor's turned to each other and shook hands. Jon saw a smirk growing on Damian's lips. Their nations were now working together. 

"We shall have a glorious dinner this evening to celebrate!" Ra's announced, glancing from Kal to Jon.

"That sounds most wonderful," Kal responded.

"Then it shall be so! Prince Damian . . . Go make yourself presentable for our guests, please."

Damian chuckled. "You do not approve of my battle armor, grandfather?"

"The armor, yes. Your additional layer of blood, however, is not suitable for dining."

"Of course, my Lord."

Damian was turning to leave when Jon heard it. A whisper, a degrading, disrespectful, traitorous comment about the Prince. He spun, eyes seeking out the speaker, who was still talking. His eyes landed on a servant standing to the side, whispering to his fellow servant. Jon scowled, unclipping his whip.

"Jon," Kal said, seeing what was happening.

The whip was unfurled, and the Kryptonian guards gave a small gasp of shock.

"Repeat what you just said," Jon snarled, glaring down the servant.

The man froze, eyes wide. "My. . . My Lord?" He breathed out.

"Tell me what you just said about your Prince."

"Jon-El!" Kal exclaimed, sounding horrified.

"Let him continue," Damian's voice said.

Jon glanced behind him enough to see Damian, who waved his hand slightly. Jon flicked his whip, wrapping it around the servants leg, yanking and pulling him across the floor. The servant yelled in both pain and shock. Jon crossed the small distance to where the man now lay and planted a boot on his stomach, pushing.

"Tell me!"

"I- I said that the Prince looked like a . . . " The servant looked up at Jon and squeaked in fear. "Demon tramp, and was a vile creature."

Jon shoved a little harder on his stomach.

"Prince Al Guhl, how would you like this _welp_ dealt with?"

Jon glanced up and over, not missing his father's mortified look, or the calculating look of Ra's Al Guhl. Damian stepped closer, glancing over Jon again, then down at the servant.

"Have your guards take him out to the courtyard and deal with him how you would a servant caught speaking of treason on Krypton," Damian hummed, touching Jon's bicep.

Jon didn't ask permission from his father, he just looked over at the guards, one came over and picked up the servant, throwing him over his shoulder easily. The guard started carrying the servant, screaming and thrashing, away. Jon turned to Ra's and Kal, bowing. He made eye contact with Damian, and then spun, following his guard.

He would admit, handing out lashes in defense of Damian gave him a sense of satisfaction. The servant screamed and cried in pain, but didn't beg, clearly knowing it would do nothing. Once Jon was finished, he wrapped up his blood covered whip, turned and marched away. Some servants scrambled past to collect their wounded brother. He just walked away. It didn't take long until Kal had found him, grabbing him by the ear and yanking him into a training room.

"What in Rao was that?!" He snarled, still pulling on Jon's ear.

"I dealt with an issue, Father."

"You made a scene in front of the humans!"

"That servant was being blatantly disrespectful of his Prince, I will not stand for-"

"What did you agree to, Jon? What did Damian promise you?" Kal asked, letting go to pace.

Jon raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting, Father?"

"I'm suggesting that I believe you have formed your own alliance with their Prince and are going to do something horrible. Why else would you be so insistent that the treaty carry over to the future Emperor's too?"

"Do not be foolish, Father. I am only looking out for the kingdom."

Kal spun, narrowing his eyes. "I do not know what game you are playing but-"

Jon scoffed in disbelief. "You are becoming like Kon in your old age, do you no longer trust me? Do you too believe I am planning a mutiny? I have never wished to rule, only to be trusted and useful. So whatever falsehood you have started believing, I can assure you, your fears are unfounded. I punished that servant because I was told to, I would want Prince Al Guhl to do no less if the situations had been reversed."

"Be cautious with who you allow to turn your head, _boy,_ Damian is nothing but a murderer and a power-hungry child. He will not stop until he takes the throne, and he is not afraid to use people to achieve that. He will please you and use you and then no longer need you when his grandfather has been stripped from power. Ra's may be blinded by his pretense of loyalty, but I am not. Do not think I do not see what game he is playing. This is why I did not want you to remain on Earth," Kal ranted.

Jon turned and walked to the door.

"I appreciate your concern, father, but I assure you. I am no fool, nor am I a child, as you have yet to realize."

"Jon!"

His protest went unheard as Jon walked out the door, slamming it behind him. He had barely made it down the corridor when two servants appeared in front of him.

"If it pleases your Royal Highness, his majesty, Prince Al Guhl sent us to assist you in preparing for dinner."

Jon felt his eyebrow raise, and then looked down at his blue and gray clothing.

"That depends, do you have anything that isn't green?"

One of the servants smiled lightly.

"We have many clothing choices that we hope will please you, my Lord."

Jon nodded, smiling back. "Very well, then."

He followed the servants to a bedroom that was clearly unoccupied. They spent the next hour or so deciding on an appropriate outfit for dinner, and then another half an hour after that fussing over his hair. Just when he thought he was done, one of the servants produced a small velvet box.

"His Royal Highness has sent you this as a gift."

"I thought this whole process was already his gift," Jon asked with a chuckle.

He had been dressed, finally, in black pants, luckily not the loose style that Damian often wore, these were a little more snug then even he usually wore. He had been left with his black, ankle high boots, and the black belt that held his whip. The tunic they had given him was a mixture of fabrics, the base color a dark blue, with gray accents. The sleeves were see through, a style he had often seen Damian wearing, and the material shimmered slightly in the light. The shirt was also a little snug, but not uncomfortable, he still had full range of motion, and the sleeves were just slightly bigger than his actual arms. The cuffs of the shirt were the gray color, and the collar was left undone, as well as some of the buttons going down the shirt, showing off his chest. 

He held out his hand for the box, and the servant passed it over. He felt the blue velvet material for a moment, it was smooth in his hands. He gently lifted the lid of the box and inside, laying on a white cushion, was a beautiful silver necklace, a blue teardrop shaped gem hanging from the delicate chain. Jon stared at it for a moment in silence. It was absolutely gorgeous. It didn't take him long to realize the stone matched his eyes. One of the servants clipped it around his neck, the gem rested just below his clavicle, visible through the open shirt. One of the servants pointed out a mirror and he walked over, looking at himself in it.

"If it pleases his Highness," one of the servants had his red cape. "Might we try this with the outfit?"

He nodded, and the two servants carefully clipped it on. The cape looked good, giving him a loftier look. Admittedly, he didn't look like himself. He didn't dress fancy, and he didn't wear jewelry. But he liked this, he looked nice. His hair had been gently curled away from his face, the black locks bouncing slightly as he moved, but it looked good. A knock at the door pulled his attention, and he looked over to see one of the Kryptonian guards slipping in. He spoke to Jon softly in their tongue, and Jon nodded in understanding. The guards had been taught basic Terran, but not enough to fully communicate in it.

He thanked the servants and then followed the guard out, to the dining hall he had previously eaten several meals with Damian in. He could hear music from inside, and his father talking. The palace guards stood outside let them in, announcing Jon. His guard stopped and stayed by the door. Jon took a moment to look over the room, off in a corner by the windows was a small group of musicians, playing softly, his father was reclined at the table, talking with Ra's and a woman Jon didn't recognize. She didn't look much older then Damian. Damian himself was stood off to one side with a woman and a man, their heads together as they talked. Kal was wearing the same royal robes he had been earlier, Ra's was wearing a more ornate robe thing.

Damian, somehow, never ceased to amaze and surprise Jon. Today he was wearing a similar outfit to their first meeting, the loose pants, the vest type cape. Only this outfit was black and gold, the only hint of green the emeralds in the jewelry he wore and his piercing green eyes. His black hair was falling loosely in ringlets around his face, free and gorgeous. Jon's mouth was dry as he took all this in. Damian was gorgeous, absolutely stunning. He looked so different compared to when he had shown up earlier, speckled in blood and eyes flashing with arrogance.

"Jon! Come sit!" Kal waved him over, tone completely different from their last interaction.

Damian's eyes had found Jon, and his lips, covered in lipstick so deep red that it was nearing black, quirked into a smile, gaze trailing down his body. But he made no move to leave the conversation. Jon waited until he made eye contact before moving towards his father, smoothly sitting at the low table, legs crossed like Damian had taught him. His heart was pounding, seeing Damian like that had set off _something_ in him. Out of curiosity, he extended his hearing out to Damian, hearing the conversation they were having, something about the rebels. But then he caught Damian's heartbeat. It was also racing.

"-new."

"What?" Jon asked, pulling his attention to Kal.

Kal raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Your clothes. I do not remember these."

"Oh, yeah. They're uh. I just got them."

Kal reached out and gently touched the necklace. He raised an eyebrow but didn't ask, turning back to Ra's. Jon listened to their conversation for a moment, discussing the soldiers Kal would be providing. Then a hand gently touched his shoulder. He looked up to see Damian behind him, and his breath caught.

"Come here."

Jon didn't hesitate, just stood and abandoned his Father. Something told him this would be a trend. Damian led him towards the two people he had been talking to. The man was significantly older than the girl, roughly Jon's height, and almost the same size. The girl was small, lithe, but Jon didn't doubt she was more powerful then she looked.

"Prince Jon-El, these are two of my Generals, Maya Ducard, and Jason Todd."

They both bowed, Jon nodded to them. Damian had talked about Jason before, here and there but never much. Not enough to get a feel for his personality, but enough to know he was fiercely loyal to Damian.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, finally, Prince El," Maya greeted with the friendliest smile Jon had seen since arriving on Earth.

"You two go enjoy the festivities, after this last week, you have earned it," Damian said, motioning for them to leave.

They walked away, and Damian headed towards the windows. Jon followed, curious as to why he was called over, and also maybe because he wanted to get a better look at Damian. When they reached the windows, Damian turned and leaned against the sloping cement window sill, facing Jon. His eyeshadow matched his outfit, dark, in some places, but golden in others. And Jon was a little too mesmerized by the dark lipstick on Damian's lips. Just a little. Damian's eyes scanned over him once more, not even trying to hide the hungry gaze. It sent a powerful wave of heated lust straight to Jon's cock.

"Do you like it?" Damian asked, reaching out, gently touching the necklace, taking it in his fingers and running his thumb over the jewel. His hand felt cold against Jon's chest, his knuckles pressed against the skin.

"It's beautiful."

Damian hummed. "I had wished to give it to you earlier, but then I got called away. . . "

"It matches my eyes," Jon commented.

"I know." Damian's gaze shot up to meet the mentioned blue eyes.

Jon's breath caught as they looked into each other's eyes. His heart was beating so fast, and he was actually nervous, for some reason. Damian's hand was still on his chest, thumb rubbing over the jewel.

"Your heart is beating quickly," Damian's remarked, letting go of the jewel and pressing his palm against Jon's pec, sliding it over, under his shirt, until it was resting over his heart.

He shivered lightly.

"Are you nervous?" Damian asked, humming, pressing a little harder into his chest.

Jon couldn't stop staring at those red lips. He also couldn't speak, no words were forming in his mouth. He swallowed thickly. Damian chuckled, gently scraping his blunt fingernails against Jon's skin. Jon gave a low noise that was stuck between a moan and a growl.

"What is it you want?" Damian asked coyly, voice low and sensual.

Jon wanted to slam Damian into a wall and mark him. To shove a knee between those legs and get him wound up into a blubbering mess. He _wanted_ to take Damian. _Wanted_ to taste his honey skin. But he _needed_ to get control. He _needed_ to keep appearances.

"My father," he murmured, even as Damian's hand kept feeling around his chest. The metal of his rings was cold, catching and pinching his skin occasionally.

Damian's eyes shot away from Jon's face, somewhere behind him.

"Is oblivious."

"He is less oblivious then you think, he is suspicious of you."

"He would be a poor ruler if he was not."

"Damian, we need to talk," Jon said, reaching up and grabbing his wrist.

"We do. We have an agreement to discuss," Damian confirmed, but his gaze was still hungry as he watched Jon's face.

"No. Not that-"

"After all, you do belong to me now." Damian gave him an almost feral grin. "Or did you not realize that would take affect the moment the treaty was signed."

Jon took a breath. He had known, he was just hoping Damian would allow him to return to Krypton to pack up his things. Damian pulled his hand away, leaning forwards and pushing up to bring his mouth up against Jon's ear, his breath hot. He bumped his chest against Jon's, using this contact to steady himself.

"Come to my room tonight, we shall _discuss_ things then."

Damian gently bit Jon's earlobe, tugging it lightly. The amount of self control it took not to slam Damian back into the wall was incredible. Damian, his teeth still on Jon's ear, chuckled deeply, then pulled away. He slipped out from between Jon and the wall and sauntered his way over to the table. Jon braced his hand on the wall and took a shaky breath, steadying himself. Damian certainly knew how to get to a person. He reached up, touching his ear to make sure no lipstick had rubbed off onto his skin. He turned and walked back, finding Maya and Jason sitting on either side of Damian. He swallowed and walked over, sitting beside Kal and Jason.

"Are you okay?" Kal asked with a concerned look. "Your heart is going wild."

"Yeah, I'm okay, dad." 

Kal gave him a suspicious look but left it alone. Dinner was very grand, so many different types of food and things Jon had never tasted. It was quite amusing to watch Kal figure out human customs. Now he understood Damian's amusement with him. Every time they made eye contact, Damian smirked at him, and Jon knew this evening was going to be interesting.

* * *

Damian was gonna get himself in trouble, he knew this. He knew it as he had pressed himself into Jon and whispered in his ear. He knew it when he had lightly bit the aliens ear. And he especially knew it when he looked up and made eye contact with Mara. But he had the Kryptonian wrapped around his finger and he wasn't going to back off now.

After their celebrations, Damian excused himself first, under the pretense of being exhausted, having been at war for a week. He slipped away, quietly walking through the halls, enjoying the silence broken only by the soft echo of his shoes on the stone floor. He really did need a short respite, away from servants and soldiers, away from his grandfather and politics. He didn’t know when, or if, for that matter, Prince El would be joining him, but he figured he had enough time to relax in the silence and privacy of his room. He walked up the staircase to the floor of the palace that his bed chambers were in and made his way over, pushing the door open and turning on lights. The palace was mostly modernized, despite its medieval appearance, so they still had electric lighting, indoor plumbing, heating and air conditioning, and even the internet, but that was used solely for working.

A quiet thump alerted him to the presence of something else in his rooms, and he looked around, eyebrow raised. Then he smiled and let out a small coo, dropping down to a crouch. The cause of the thump, a large jaguar stalked over in what would be a threatening manner to anyone but Damian, who knew this animal well. She was a beautiful creature, a black sheen covering the normal jaguar spotted coat, making her look solid black in certain lighting, when in reality, she had the same coat pattern as any other jaguar, just much darker. Her golden eyes watched him as she walked over on her large black paws. And then she just bumped her head into his chest, knocking him over until she could lay in his lap.

“Hello there, pretty girl,” he cooed, running his hands along her beautiful coat. “Did you miss me? Todd brought you, no?”

She gave a small snarl, but he knew it wasn’t aggressive, just a response to his question.

“I have quite the news for you. You will not believe what I have been working on the past few weeks.”

He pushed on her until she rolled off, and then he stood, kicking off his shoes. She followed him into the bathroom and lay on the floor beside him, watching as he wiped off the remainder of his red lipstick. He had seen how Jon had watched his lips when it was on, and almost considered applying more, but ultimately decided against it, putting on a lip balm and then walking back out to his room. He shed the vest cape he wore, tossing it over a chair for servants to hang up tomorrow. Then he moved across the room, sitting down behind his harp and pulling it back against it, closing his eyes as he delicately began plucking the strings. Soon beautiful, peaceful music was filling the whole room.

He lost track of time, but a soft snarl was his first alert to an intruder to his solitude. He barely cracked an eye to see Mara slip through the bedroom door.

“What do you want, cousin?” he asked, not even pausing in his playing.

“Your cat is back. I thought it was at your mother’s fortress.”

“How many times, Mara, do I have to remind you that it is _my_ fortress now, and that you are to bow to your prince?”

“My apologies, my Lord.” She over dramatically bowed low to the ground, eyes narrowed at him.

“Now, answer my question.”

She was silent for a moment, until he stopped playing and opened his eyes fully, staring at her.

“You could have anyone you wanted on the whole planet, and you go for that which you can not have.”

Damian gave a small scoff, returning to plucking chords.

“You assume that I do not already have him.”

“So you are pursuing the Kryptonian prince.”

“And if I am, what are you going to do about it, Cousin?”

She was silent.

“Besides, there is no fun in chasing that which I can easily get, and that which does not want me. The Kryptonian, however. . . “

“You’re despicable. You should be marrying a woman, carrying on our families bloodline, having an hie-”

Malika’s deep snarl cut Mara short. The woman flinched back towards the door. Damian stopped playing again, standing and moving towards her.

“You, cousin, are the last person who gets to tell me whom to pursue. I do not need, nor ask for your approval. And another word like that will quickly find your tongue removed from your head. Do. You. Understand.”

Mara was pissed, her eyes burned with rage as she glared back at Damian. When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her by the throat.

“Answer me, you pathetic excuse for a soldier.”

“I understand,” she hissed out. 

Damian considered choking her out then and there, getting rid of another, future problem. But he didn’t, just let go.

“Get out of my sight.”

She spun on her heel and stormed out, flinging the door shut behind her. A few seconds later, he heard the outer room door slam shut. He stepped out, checking to make sure she was actually gone before shaking his head and moving back to his harp.

He had often been told the same thing by his mother. He needed to marry a strong woman, give her a child so she could give him an heir. She had been bitterly disappointed when he revealed he had no interest in women, and had screamed at him for an hour, calling him all sorts of degrading names. That had begun their feud that would end her life. He didn’t let it bother him anymore. Ra’s didn’t care whom he pleasured himself with, or at least, not enough to say anything, and anyone else who had a problem with it could have a personal meeting with his sword.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at his door. He stopped playing and looked up at Malika.

“He’s here, darling.”

The big cat let out a noise similar to a purr and let her head drop back onto his bed. Damian chuckled and stood, walking into the other room and over to the door. He pulled it open and sure enough, Prince Jon-El was stood outside. He smiled the moment he saw Damian. Then his eyes dropped, and the smile dropped off his face as he looked over Damian's bare chest. Damian chuckled.

"Would you like to come in, or would you rather stand here and admire my body?"

Jon's cheeks flushed, much like they had earlier when Damian's hand had been on his chest.

"I mean, I won't . . . " Jon stopped and swallowed.

Damian chuckled again, stepping out of the way. Jon entered the room, still dressed in his clothes from dinner. The clothes Damian had given him.

"How did you enjoy dinner?" Damian asked, closing the door and walking back to his bedroom.

"It was lovely, I've never had so many flavorful foods."

Jon froze as he saw the animal laying on Damian's bed.

"This is Malika," Damian explained, walking over, crouching in front of the cat and picking up her huge head.

"What is. What is she?"

"My Jaguar."

"Oh. This is a Jaguar."

"She's a very special breed, most don't have this coat pattern."

"Can I pet her?"

Damian looked up at Jon, lingering by the end of the bed.

"Potentially? She doesn't like most people."

"Well, I'm not most people, am I?"

Jon walked over, crouching down beside him, he offered his hand out, letting the big cat smell him. She smelled him, eyes narrowed, and then she dropped her head back into Damian's hands.

"What does that mean?" Jon asked, his thigh pressed against Damian's.

"Well she didn't eat your hand so I guess she approves of you."

Damian kissed the top of her head and then stood. He walked over to the double glass doors on the wall near his bed, pushing aside his curtains and then opening the doors, stepping out onto the balcony. He heard Jon's boots crossing the room, heard the balcony doors click shut. Sensed Jon standing behind him, then the Kryptonian stepped up beside him. They just stood next to each other, looking out over the Oasis of the fortress. Damian looked over after a while, the low dusk light was barely lighting Jon's face, casting shadows across his more defined features.

"You wanted to discuss things?" Damian hummed, watching as Jon's eyes flickered over to him.

"My father knows you are planning something."

Damian arched an eyebrow, turning to lean a hip against the stone railing. Jon braced his forearms against the rail and looked over at him.

"He knows you're planning something, and he suspects I am in on it."

"Will he say anything?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"Then that's not important," Damian said with a shrug. "These clothes look good on you."

"Damian," Jon said with a sigh, almost sounding annoyed.

"Yes, Prince El?" Damian hummed.

Jon turned fully to face him, stepping closer, putting his hands on either side of him on the railing, caging him in. Damian turned as Jon pressed closer, his lower back pressed against the rail. Jon looked down at him, lust plain in his eyes. Damian swallowed, having to tilt his head up to look him in the eyes. Jon licked his lips before speaking.

"What do you want from me, Damian? Why do you give me gifts and tease and toy with me? Why do you give me your trust and tell me your important plans?" Jon murmured, voice low, and face not far from Damian's.

Damian opened his mouth to respond, but Jon interrupted.

"You asked me what I wanted, Damian. But what do _you_ want?" He paused for a moment, bringing a hand up and running his thumb over Damian's lips. "After all, I _belong_ to you."

The way he said that sent a shiver through Damian, and he swallowed.

"Everything I have to offer is yours now, your Imperial Majesty. So what do you want from me?"

Jon's knee bumped against his thigh, and without thinking, Damian widened his stance, allowing Jon's knee to slip between his legs. Jon's thumb pressed against his lips a little harder before slipping down, around to the back of his neck. Damian didn't let himself think, just pressed up into Jon, their bodies smacking together as Damian shoved their lips together. Jon's knee shoved up against Damian's cock and he gasped at the sudden contact. Jon didn't hesitate, biting Damian's bottom lip slightly before slipping his tongue into Damian's open mouth. Kissing the Kryptonian was like nothing Damian had ever done before, it was like breathing pure oxygen and having all the air stolen from his lungs at once. 

Jon knew exactly what to do with his mouth and with his hands. One hand landed on Damian's side, his palm was incredibly warm against his bare skin. His other hand kept cupping Damians neck, and his knee kept pressing up into him, all while Jon was pressing him against the banister. The kiss was anything but tame and cautious, it was passionate, hot, and sloppy. Damian's hands were in Jon's hair, tangling it, keeping him close. Jon teased his lips, biting them slightly, licking into Damian's open mouth, pulling away to gently peck his lips and then immediately return to deeply kissing him. All the while, his thigh was grinding against Damian's steadily growing erection. It had been too long since Damian had allowed himself the pleasures of the flesh.

Jon pulled away, kissing down his jaw and sucking at the smooth skin on his neck before moving and gently biting his earlobe. When that earned him a sharp inhale and a tug of the hair, he did it again, quickly kissing and sucking just below Damian's ear after, his hands were now on Damian's stomach, feeling along his smooth muscles, the airy breaths they were giving out filling the still night air. Damian slipped his hands into the small space between them, pulling at the clasps on Jon's shirt as he rolled his hips into the man's legs, gasping with pleasure as Jon bit his throat.

"Do you have other commitments for the evening?" Damian questioned.

He had finally gotten Jon's shirt unbuttoned and now ran his hands over the hard muscles, squeezing his pecs slightly.

"No, my Emperor," Jon purred out, biting again, this time pinching the skin between his teeth and pulling away, pulling the skin with him.

"Ah! Fuck!"

Damian wrapped his arms around Jon's neck, and hooked a leg around his hips. Jon quickly slipped his arms under Damian and easily picked him up, stepping back until he hit the doors, and then pulling one open, his mouth never leaving Damian's skin. Jon smoothly dropped onto his bed, Damian in his lap. The man pushed up on his knees, giving Jon access to more skin as he scrambled for the buckle on his belt, tossing it aside and then pushing off Jon's shirt.

Malika gave a displeased snarl as the fabric was tossed on her, and then she dropped off the bed, stalking out of the room.

"Fuck, Jon," Damian hissed, yanking on the man's hair.

Jon obeyed, his blue eyes looking up at the Prince.

"Yes?" He asked, feigning innocence, even as Damian's neck and chest were already littered with red swollen marks.

"Fuck me."

Jon tilted his head slightly, bringing his head closer to swirl his tongue around Damian's nipple, earning a whimpered moan.

"What does that mean?" He asked, even as he turned and pushed Damian down onto the bed.

"It means I want this-" Damian reached down, finding Jon's cock and palming it, pressing hard enough to get a pleased hiss. "-inside of me."

Jon reached down, undoing his pants and quickly moving to pull them off. His mouth found Damian's once more, kissing him deeply, even as his warm hands finished undressing Damian.

"Do you have-" Jon pulled away, scowling. "What is the human word for it?"

He said something, something that barely sounded like a language.

"What?" Damian hissed, pulling off pieces of jewelry and tossing them aside. Someone could clean them up later.

"I don't know what it's called!" Jon whined, kissing Damian quickly. "It's for preparing you. For this."

Jon's fingers pressed between his ass cheeks, pressing at the ring of muscles hidden there, and Damian gasped, but understood. He pulled away, reaching for the table beside his bed, and praying to the gods the lube that Jon was asking for was still there. His hand closed around the bottle and he passed it over.

"Hurry up," he hissed, digging his fingers into Jon's shoulders.

The man chuckled, dipping his head and gently nipping a spot on Damian's neck. A spot that was already tender and sent bolts of pain and pleasure through his body.

"Patience, my lord. Relax."

Damian ordered his body, which was burning with arousal and desire and need, to relax, taking a deep breath and releasing. Jon chuckled again, kissing him lightly.

"Just relax, Damian, enjoy yourself."

* * *

Oh Jon was so dead when his father found out about this. If he didn't already know. He had heard Mara, Damian's cousin, talking to the man only a short while before Jon got there, and he wouldn't be terribly surprised if the girl was enough of a rat to go straight to the emperor's. Jon would absolutely die if Kal had chosen to listen in on him and had heard even a few seconds of what they had been doing.

He could already hear the lecture.

But for the moment, that didn't matter. What did matter was Damian Al Guhl, pressed up against him, exchanging lazy kisses as they were both tired and yet to become fully lucid. Damian's silky black hair was pressed to his forehead with sweat, and Jon decided he did not envy the humans for their sweat glands, he was quite content with his temperature range and occasional overheating if things got real bad. Jon reached up and gently pushed the hair out of his face, gently kissing his cheek, and then his jaw. It was a romantic moment, and he didn't expect it to last. Damian didn't seem the romantic type. He was quite the bossy bottom, but Jon wasn't that surprised.

"My lord," he spoke softly, gently kissing over a red mark on the man's neck.

"Yes, Jon?" Damian hummed, his fingers were gently running along Jon's back muscles.

"Will you allow me to return to Krypton with my father? I will come back to you with the first battalion of soldiers. But I wish to go back and say my goodbyes, pack up some of my belongings."

Damian was silent, head tilted back so Jon could continue kissing his skin.

"If that is what you desire, then I will allow it."

"Thank you, my lord," Jon murmured.

Damian hummed in return.

After a few minutes the man rolled away, getting off the bed and heading into another room. Jon heard water turn on, and curiously, he stood and walked over, standing in the open doorway. Damian was grabbing two fluffy white towels.

"Are you returning to your ship tonight?" He asked, barely glancing over.

"It would be for the best. It would not be viewed well if I was caught here with you looking as you do."

"Yes, well. Who has to deal with the consequences of your actions here, hmm?"

"My apologies, my lord. I am sure, upon my return, you can deliver a punishment you see fit."

Damian chuckled, turning to him. Jon allowed his eyes to scan down Damian's gorgeous body.

"Are you leaving soon then?"

"Within the next few days, anyway. Father wishes to see a bit of the planet before he returns to Krypton."

Damian hummed. "It's likely I will not see you after tomorrow. I have business to attend to involving my own father."

Jon nodded in understanding. Damian turned and stepped into the shower, motioning for Jon to follow.

"It would not be right for me to send you back in your current state," was his explanation.

They showered together for a few minutes, washing the sweat and semen from their skin. Jon got out first, toweling off and walking into the bedroom and collecting his clothing, slowly dressing. By the time he was done, Damian had come and sat on the bed, naked, wet hair plastered to his skin. Jon turned to him, and they just looked at each other in silence.

_Don't let it get awkward_

Jon walked over, dropping to his knees in front of Damian. The man raised an eyebrow, turning to face him a little better. Jon snagged his hand, kissing the back of it, then his knuckles, then the palm, the wrist, up to his forearm. Jon's chest was against Damian's knees as he kissed up Damian's arm. Then he pulled away, dropping back and gently kissing Damian's knee, then his smooth muscular thigh, earning a hastily stifled gasp. He chuckled against the skin, sucking and biting the spot lightly. He felt a hand in his hair briefly, before his chin was being pushed up to look at Damian.

"I thought I told you bowing was fine?"

Despite the comment, Damian didn't seem upset. Jon chuckled again, pushing up on the bed, crowding Damian's space and lightly kissing his beautiful lips.

"If we don’t see each other before I leave,” Jon hummed out, lightly kissing down Damian’s neck. “Then this is farewell until my return.”

“That does stand to reason.”

Jon ignored the sarcastic comment for the sake of the sensuality of what was happening.

“I’ll be back soon, my emperor.”

Damian gave a pleased noise as Jon lightly nipped at his throat, his hands digging through Jon’s tangled locks.

“I will expect you shortly,” Damian breathed out.

Jon suddenly found himself being pulled down on top of the bed, Damian’s legs wrapping around his hips as he was pinned underneath Jon’s large body. He chuckled, sucking on Damian’s collar bone.

“We’re going to start again,” he commented.

Neither moved to seperate. Damian was already rolling his hips up into Jon, grinding them together, hissing at the friction. Jon mildly wondered how long humans could keep going for, but kept up his task of finding Damian’s most sensitive spot. Currently it appeared to be right over his windpipe, down near his collarbone. 

“I should really go.”

“Then get up and leave.”

“You won’t be mad?”

“Oh, I will,”

“Then why would I leave?”

“Didn’t you have someplace to be?”

Jon groaned, dropping his head onto Damian’s chest as he remembered his father.

“Kal will kill you if he finds out about this.”

Damian chuckled, stilling his body, hands still running through Jon’s hair.

“I do see what you mean about him being protective of you.”

“It’s painfully annoying,” Jon said with another groan.

Damian hummed. “I do believe it is just because he cares about you, Jon.”

“Yeah well, he could care about me and let me be useful. But whatever, that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

Damian gave a questioning hum.

“It doesn’t matter what use I am to my father, because . . . “ Jon rested his chin on Damian’s chest, looking up at him, waiting for him to finish.

He smirked as he understood. “You belong to me.”

Jon kissed Damian’s breastbone, before pushing up, out of his grip. Damian scowled at him, but didn’t make a move to follow, just pushed up on one elbow, watching Jon as he looked around the room for anything he missed while redressing. He lifted a hand and felt the necklace missing and frowned, looking around.

“What’s the matter?” Damian asked, sitting up fully.

“The necklace you gave me.”

“Oh.”

Damian turned, grabbing something off the table beside his bed and motioning him over. Jon obliged, walking closer and bending down. Damian reached up, clipping the necklace on, then gently pressing it against his chest. Jon smiled at him.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Damian hummed, kissing him lightly.

“Now go. And I expect you to return within a decent time.”

“I will let you know when we are coming,” Jon answered hurriedly.

He pressed a little harder into Damian, sucking in his bottom lip and savoring this kiss. Damian’s hand was still against his chest, now gripping his shirt. It’d be so easy to just fall back into the bed with Damian and never leave, and Jon would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to. He took a few extra moments to memorize the taste of Damian, the feeling of his lips, before pulling away, straightening and stepping back before the crafty Prince could pull him back in.

“Goodbye, Damian.”

“Goodbye, Prince El.”


	3. Six Months in the Making

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"My Lord, we have news from the Capital."

Damian looked up, tapping his fingers against the table for a moment before sighing, reaching up to pull off his mask.

"Yes, General Todd?"

He examined the two men in front of him. General Jason Todd and Commander Roy Harper. They were standing far too close together, far too comfortable for a General and his subordinate, but what did Damian care? If they wanted to get pleasure by trading sexual favors, that was none of his business, and he certainly wasn't one to judge. The two were nearly equal in height, Todd was broader in the chest and smaller in the hips, while Harper was muscular all over, his chest and hips nearly the same height. Despite appearances, Damian knew Harper was the stronger of the two, with that giant bow he used instead of a sword. Harper's long red hair was swept up into a messy bun, held back from his face by a strip of fabric, he wore no mask, but instead often wore a pair of sunglasses or eyewear that had a telescopic type function.

Todd kept his black hair shaved short, he wore a red mask, similar to Damian's, and left his eyes uncovered. The teal irises were admittedly rather unsettling, a side effect from the dip in the Lazarus Pit that Todd had never quite recovered from. Todd wore black and gray armor, while Harper wore solid red. They were an odd match, but they worked well all the same. After Roy's adoptive father, a rebel leader, became almost abusive, Roy defected and found Jason, begging the man to let him join the Imperial military. Jason had pitied him for whatever reason - Damian suspected sex - and vouched for the man to Damian.

"They report that the Kryptonian ship should be on planet tonight."

"Ah. Very good, tell the capital that I want my team of soldiers sent directly here, we could use them."

Jason and Roy exchanged a look.

"My Lord, not to question you, but would it not be best to save the Kryptonian's for a bigger battle, have the element of surprise against the rebels?"

Damian considered this for a second.

"Potentially, but I would like to capture the Amazon and the speedster, and we both know our troops can not do that."

"Very well sir."

Roy turned and walked away, leaving just Jason and Damian inside the small command center. The sounds of battle, gunfire and explosions, surrounded them. They had finally found the current rebel headquarters, and Damian had taken a considerable force to deal with them. They had already killed or captured a good portion but Damian wasn't ready to leave yet.

It had been six months since the Kryptonian Emperor and Prince had left. Six months since whatever had happened with Jon that one night. And Damian was not pleased. He had factored Jon into his plans to kill Ra's. He could do it without him, but he wanted the Kryptonian soldiers to be established on the planet and their Prince by his side to assure their obedience to him. And if he was eager to see Jon? Well, Jason wouldn't dare tell anyone but Maya about the small smile that graced their future Emperor's face as he thought of the Kryptonian prince.

"Todd, take your team through the subway tunnels, be thorough, something tells me there is something down there we missed."

"Yes, my lord."

Damian watched Jason leave before standing, reaching out and rolling up his maps. A servant appeared and took them away. He stretched lightly before turning and walking out, surveying troops running around, preparing to relieve their brothers in arms, medical teams dealing with injuries, and other grunts running around, tending to the tasks that were involved with running a military camp. Knowing he wasn't needed on the front lines, he slowly made his way around the camp, checking up on all the different teams, making sure things were running smoothly. He liked to do his own inspections, because then he could directly deal with any issues.

His tour revealed nothing other than a smoothly running military unit. He retired to his tent, finally removing his armor and sitting on the floor to relax and stretch his sore muscles. After a while, a servant brought him a bowl of warm water to clean up with, and by the time he was done, it was stained red. After a light meal, Damian went to bed, laying on his cot with a tight grip on a dagger.

This turned out to be a good thing because he woke up to find a blade about to be plunged through his heart.

He had sensed the intruder pushing through the tent. He had heard their feet on the grass floor. He had sensed them towering over him, confirming his identity. His only thought was that he had some guards to replace. He heard the slide of a dagger coming out of its sheath. He waited a beat, then two. And then he moved. He felt the blade slip just past him and catch his white sleep shirt. A quiet gasp came from his assailant and he struck out with the heel of his hand, nailing them in the gut. They stumbled back and Damian easily moved to his feet, now the armed one as they had dropped their dagger. It only took him five seconds to recognize the attacker. It was one of his soldiers. Rage burned through him and he launched forwards, not giving time for her to defend herself as he viciously slashed at her with his knife.

She screamed in pain as it cut through a major portion of her forearm, and he pulled back, jumping to do a roundhouse kick, nailing her in the stomach. She flew back, falling out of the tent and flipping over as she landed. Guards were already running from every direction, but Damian didn't need them, he was already following. He flew out of the tent, nailing her in the side as she was trying to get up. The guards formed a loose circle around them as the Prince began mercilessly beating this traitor. When she was finally crying for mercy, he hauled her up, hand on her throat. Blood was running out from her nose, coating her mouth. He knew some bones were broken.

"You have three seconds to tell me who ordered you to kill me," Damian snarled. "The pain awaiting you, should you fail to answer, will be immeasurable."

The girl coughed up blood in response. Damian delivered a swift blow to her side. She groaned in response but didn't speak. When his dagger went through her foot, however, she screamed in pain.

"My mistress ordered me too!"

"Who?!"

"Princess Mara!!"

Damian snarled out loud, he spent too much time with Malika. Great. Now he had that to deal with. He looked over, seeing Jason standing nearby, hand on a gun, watching Damian, they made eye contact, and he saw the silent question. Damian shook his head. He would deal with this himself. He stepped forwards towards her and she flinched back, held in place by the knife in her boot.

"You have failed your mistress, and you will die for your crimes," he told her, quickly stepping around her.

He hooked an arm around her throat, squeezing. She made a choked noise as he cut off her airway and pressed in on her arteries, scratching at his arm with blunt fingernails. He squeezed tighter and waited. Soon her thrashing stopped and her arms fell from his, but he didn't let go. He knew exactly how long it took to kill someone like this. He looked up at the crowd surrounding him as he waited.

"Someone find me her name and how the hell she got in my troops," he ordered. 

A boy ran away to follow the order.

"Todd, clear these people before I give them the same treatment."

Jason didn't even need to say anything, everyone rushed to disappear. After over a minute, Damian let go, letting the attackers body fall. He looked up at Jason.

"Finish her," he ordered, stepping back.

The execution was immediate, a single bullet through her head. Damian walked around the blood and brains now laying on the ground and grabbed his knife from her foot.

"Get someone to deal with this," Damian grumbled, walking away.

"My Lord, do you need medical attention?" Jason called after him.

"No. But send someone to get me some tea."

"Yes, Prince Al Guhl!"

Damian went back into his tent, sighing heavily as he pulled off his shirt and looked at the tear in the back. Why couldn't Mara just leave him alone. At least he had proof. He had witnesses. He could go execute her on the spot, and frankly, he was going to. It was early enough in the morning that he could've gone back to sleep, but he didn't, stewing in his anger. A servant brought him his tea, and a corporal brought him a singular piece of paper with the girls information. She had been a last minute transfer to his company, and he knew why now. 

Well after breakfast, an airship arrived, ten Kryptonian soldiers aboard. None of them looked like Jon, which he was honestly grateful for. They had all been taught basic English, and fell to a knee when they reported to him.

"Prince El instructed us that we were to report to you and you alone, my liege," an older man said, short hair graying.

"Very good. General Todd, come here."

Jason walked up, bowing to Damian.

"Pick five, take them and brief them on the situation. I want you to breach the Amazon's hideout and capture her, dead or alive."

"Yes, Prince Al Guhl."

"Send Harper to me before you leave." 

Jason nodded.

"Those of you picked by General Todd will listen to his orders, he will be giving you a special task."

The soldiers nodded in understanding. Jason spent a few minutes looking over them and picking out the ones he wanted for his team. They immediately left. Damian turned to the others, motioning over a corporal.

"Show them to some barracks, get them settled," he instructed, turning and sitting down with a data pad.

The troop all disappeared except one man, a tall, brown haired soldier. He stepped closer.

"What?" Damian asked, annoyed. He had a case to build against his cousin.

"Prince Al Guhl, my lord has sent me to give you a gift."

Damian's eyebrow raised, but he stayed unamused. Even though his heart went up a beat.

"And?"

The soldier reached into his bag, pulling out a box, no larger than Damian's fist. He set it on Damian's desk and then bowed, turning and walking away. Damian waited a moment, glancing around to make sure no one was around before grabbing it. The box was surprisingly heavy, made out of gray metal. He gently pulled the lid off, setting it on the desk and removing the piece of fabric that covered the contents. Inside the box were two decorative hair pins, green jewels wrapped in a white metal and coupled with jewels that looked like diamonds. Damian smiled lightly, picking one up and letting his thumb rub over it. They were beautiful, and would look amazing in his hair.

"My Prince, you requested to see me?"

Damian snapped his eyes up to the red haired archer standing in the entrance of his command tent. He put the pin back in the box and carefully closed it, setting it on the desk. Roy's eyes followed his movements, but he kept quiet.

"Yes, I have a mission for you."

Roy nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"There is five Kryptonian's being shown to barracks. I want you to take them, locate the speedster and eliminate him."

Pain flashed across Roy's face at that. Roy wasn't a born soldier like Damian, he hadn't faced the hardships and trials that Jason had. He was just a guy who ran from his dad and got turned into a killer.

"I am aware that you had dealings with this particular speedster in the past, which is why I want you to lead this mission. Call it a test of your loyalty, if you wish. I expect you to bring his body to me."

"Yes, my lord," Roy said, clearly pained by this order.

Damian waved his hand to dismiss him, and Roy turned away. Damian looked back at his datapad, managing to focus on his work for all of a minute before he pulled out the hairpin again, just looking at it as it sat in his palm.

Six months. Six months since Jon left, since they had slept together. They had only talked twice in that whole time. Once for Jon to explain he was supposed to train the soldiers in human etiquette and language so they wouldn't be arriving as soon as thought. The second time was when Jon contacted them to let him know that they would be leaving for Earth shortly. Six months.

His day from that point on was spent compiling evidence to show to Ra's. For the most part he would be left unquestioned when it came to disciplining people, but he just knew that Ra's would not be pleased if he cut off Mara's head without evidence. Jason returned late that evening, bloody, covered in mud, his eyes actually glowing. 

"My Lord, we have subdued the Amazonian, I have left two of the Kryptonians to watch over her."

"Very good," Damian responded, eyes scanning over him. "Go get some rest, Todd."

"I was going to find Roy-"

"No."

Jason's eyes narrowed.

"He has his own mission, and he must complete it," Damian said. "You will not assist him."

"Yes, my lord," Jason said with gritted teeth. He spun on his heel and walked away.

Night had long since fallen when Roy finally returned to the command tent, a Kryptonian behind him, holding a body. Roy's eyes were red, and when he spoke, his voice told Damian he had been crying.

"My liege," he murmured, bowing.

"Report, Commander."

Roy straightened, swallowing. "We have eliminated the speedster."

He stepped to the side, motioning to the Kryptonian, who stepped forwards. In the light, Damian recognized the speedster and his red suit, a mop of red hair sticking out the top. An arrow was stuck through his chest, and the still wet blood told Damian the arrow had been the killing strike. He stood, walking over, pressing his fingers into the speedsters neck. When no pulse was found, he nodded in satisfaction, calling one of his guards over.

"Take the Kryptonian to deal with this," he said, waving at the body.

"Yes, my Lord."

Damian watched the two walk away, then turned to Roy, stepping over to him. He reached up, gently cupping Roy's face, the man lightly flinched away, then looked down.

"You completed your task, Roy. You have once again proved your loyalty," Damian said, speaking softer than he ever had with the man before. "Go, rest, recover."

"Yes, my Lord," Roy breathed out, his eyes already watering up.

After Damian let him go, he turned and walked away, and when Damian passed by Jason's tent shortly after, he pretended not to notice the broken sobs coming from inside.

The next day, Damian and his guards and several of the Kryptonian soldiers headed back to the capital with the Amazon and the speedsters body. He had an example to make with the speedster. But first he had a traitor to deal with. It took him only a short time to locate Mara, and of course she was with Ra's, eating dinner. He stormed into the dining hall, and the very first thing he noticed was Prince Jon-El sitting at one end of the table, alone, reading as he ate.

"Mara!" He thundered.

She spun, wide eyed. Ra's looked up, shocked, and a quiet gasp came from Jon.

"You-" she breathed out.

"Surprised to see me alive, cousin?" He snarled out, stalking closer, his datapad of evidence in one hand.

"What are you talking about?!" She exclaimed, quickly hiding her surprise. "I knew you would return from the reb-"

"Is that why you sent someone to murder me?"

"Damian, what is this?" Ra's asked calmly, looking between them.

Damian walked over to Ra's, holding out the data pad. The old man took it and started looking through.

_Don't look at Jon. Stay focused._

"Two nights ago, I was awoken around four am by someone intruding in my tent. One of Mara's majors, Alexi Ivanov, had recently been transferred into my forces, I believe solely to find an opportune moment to assassinate me."

Mara laughed. "Grandfather, surely you are not going to believe these lies. Damian has had it in for me ever since you let him kill Talia."

"He's put together some convincing evidence," Ra's said with a hum.

"Major Ivanov confessed and identified Mara as the person who had ordered her to kill me."

"And where is Ivanov?"

"Lying in a shallow grave, which is more than she deserves."

"So you have no proof?" Mara asked, crossing her arms.

"I have nearly fifteen witnesses to her confession, including General Jason Todd," Damian countered.

Mara's eyes flashed with anger and she jumped up, pulling her double sai. "You liar, you just want me out of the way!"

"Enough!" Ra's snapped, glaring her down.

Her jaw clicked shut, and she glared at Damian, not looking down at Ra's. He could see the panic in her eyes. She had been caught, and he let the smirk grow on his face.

"You thought you could get away with this? You thought you could have me killed and blame it on the rebels?" Damian asked, smirking smugly. "You are more of a fool then I thought, Mara."

"You are an arrogant pig, Damian. I know what you are planning, you will not succeed."

"I already have, Mara," Damian said with a laugh. "Grandfather?"

Ra's set down the data pad, sighing and rubbing his temples.

"I expected more from you, Mara. At least you could've had the guts to attempt the assassination yourself. Guards, please escort Mara to a cell while I consider this new information."

"Grandfather!" Mara protested loudly, even as two Kryptonian guards stepped up and grabbed her by the arms.

"I expect you to be ready to submit to your fate, granddaughter," Ra's said, waving them away.

"Damian, you bastard!" Mara screamed as she was dragged away.

Damian just laughed after her, taking a moment to relish in his victory. Then immediately he switched back to business mode.

"Grandfather, we captured the Amazon, and West had been taken care of."

Ra's eyes lit up.

"Damian! My grandson, this is great news!"

Damian offered a smirk, bowing lightly.

"I am glad you are pleased, grandfather. The Amazon is in a dampening cell, we don't quite know what her powers are, but we deemed it best to keep her sedated."

"Very good! Come, sit with us and eat! You must be tired and hungry!"

Damian finally shot a glance down the table towards Jon, who had been watching silently. Then he nodded, turning and walking towards his normal seat at the other end of the table. He sat, crossing his legs a little awkwardly due to his armor, and then pulled his gloves off, setting them down.

"Prince Al Guhl," Jon murmured, dipping his head in place of a bow.

"Prince El," Damian hummed back.

They made eye contact and Damian tried to ignore the jolt he felt when those blue eyes pierced through him. His eyes dropped and he could see the necklace he had given Jon resting on top of his clothes, it had slightly oxidized, but was still beautiful. Then his eyes caught something else, and anger shot through him hotter than when Ivanov had revealed her orders. He reached out, resting a hand on Jon's head, thumb brushing over a pink scar cutting over Jon's eyebrow, stretching into his hairline.

"Who?" He snarled.

Jon flinched away, looking down.

"It's not important."

"Jon."

Damian was going to kill someone.

"Kon-El," Jon breathed out, fixated on the plate of half touched food in front of him.

Damian grit his teeth, grabbing the edge of the table. He couldn't do anything against their High Prince, even if he wanted to break every one of his fingers and then rip his spine from his back.

Ra's was watching with amusement, an eyebrow raised, a smirk on his lips. There was a servant standing nearby with a plate of food, but they knew better then to approach when Damian was obviously in a rage. Jon stayed quiet, keeping his face tilted down so Damian couldn't see the scar. It took him approximately sixty seconds to calm enough that he waved the servant over and started angrily shoving food in his mouth. It was amazing, so much better than the food he got out in the field.

Damian briefed Ra's on the past week and a half, telling him important details, casualties, who they had caught, collateral damage, and so on. Jon didn't speak a single word the whole time. Finally Ra's stood.

"Well, grandson, you have given me a good deal to think on, so I am going to retire. You have accomplished a great deal the past few days."

They watched him leave, then sat in silence for a moment. Damian finally looked up at the Kryptonian again. His hair was shorter now, not cropped short, but short enough that it no longer curled. His skin was darker than Damian last remembered, probably from being out in the sun. He was currently wearing a loose gray shirt, Damian couldn't see his pants but he assumed he was probably wearing dark trousers like normal. Silence hung over them. Neither knew where to start.

"What happened?" Damian asked finally, motioning towards Jon's forehead.

Jon sighed, tapping his fingers on the table for a moment.

"I got in the way and Kon lashed out."

"Explain."

With another heavy sigh, Jon explained how he stepped in for a soldier who had misunderstood an order, and how Kon hadn't hesitated to punish him for it.

"Kal didn't even say anything. He just watched. This happened the day before I left."

Damian grit his teeth and stood.

"Come to my room."

And with that he marched away. What he wanted to do and say was not fitting to be done in public. He went straight to his room and changed into some very loose clothes, something comfortable. Malika followed him until she realized he was going to pace agitatedly and then she just laid down, tail flicking as she watched. When the knock on the door finally came, he was by it, opening it within seconds. He reached out, grabbing Jon by the shirt and pulling him inside. He slammed the door shut and turned to the man.

"I want to do so many horrible things to your father and brother, how _dare_ they touch you," he growled out, reaching up to cup Jon's face.

"It's okay, Damian, I'm fine now," Jon promised, looking down at him.

"It doesn't _matter_. He _hurt_ you."

"Damian, I'm not going back there, remember? So it's okay."

Damian grit his teeth, pulling away and stalking off, further into his room. He hopped up onto the raised platform, pacing. Jon came and stood beside it, watching him silently. Damian was angry, and he didn't know why. Despite what he may say, Jon didn't actually belong to him, he wasn't a pet or a trinket, he was a very powerful soldier. But to see a scar like that on him, it made his blood boil.

"Damian. Come here, okay? Would you just calm down and relax? You can't tell me you aren't tired."

Damian looked over at him, scowling, another thought popping into his head.

"Take off your shirt."

Jon looked shocked for a minute, and then chuckled.

"That's not very romantic," he hummed, smirking.

"It's not meant to be. Take it off."

Damian's tone must've been dark enough that Jon understood. He reached down, tugging the shirt out of his trousers and then pulling it off over his head. Damian's let his eyes roam down Jon's muscular chest, the skin there was darker too, unbroken by scars or injuries. Nothing was hidden there that confirmed Damian's suspicions.

"They don't hit me, Damian, I would never allow that."

"Good."

Damian walked over and dropped down off the platform.

"Are you okay? I know you've been on a battlefield for a while."

"I'm fine, Jon."

"Okay."

There was this hint of awkwardness lingering over them. Jon seemed hesitant, like he didn't quite know what to do.

"I assume you were given a set of rooms?" Damian asked finally after a few minutes of silence.

"Uh, yeah."

"You can keep those if you wish, or you can move here."

Damian turned and walked to the door across from his, pushing it open to reveal another bedroom. 

"Whoa, why do you have two rooms?"

"This used to be for my tutors, but when I no longer needed them, the room was left empty. You can have it, if you wish."

"I'll consider that, thank you."

Damian nodded, leaving the door open and going to find Malika. Jon followed him, watching as the prince laid down next to the Jaguar, she put her large head on his chest. 

"I got your gift, it was lovely."

"I'm glad! I made them out of some rare metals on Krypton."

Damian looked up. "You made them?"

"Yeah. I have lots of hidden talents, Damian."

He hummed.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you to rest," Jon said, stepping back towards the door.

"I shall see you in the morning," Damian responded, picking up his head.

When Jon smiled at him, he fought the urge to smile back.

"Goodbye, my Emperor."

Damian watched him walk away, and then looked down at Malika, rubbing her ears. 

"He's quite the spectacle, isn't he, girl?"

She rumbled in response and let her eyes close.

* * *

"But what if you die?"

"I'm not going to die, Jon."

"You said she was skilled in close combat."

"I did. I also said that I was better."

Jon scowled at Damian, watching as he stretched, loosening his muscles.

"Do you really have that little faith in me?"

"What do you want me to say? I've never seen you fight, Damian."

The prince looked up at him with an unamused look. He was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his leg as he stretched. He was shirtless, shoeless, and dressed in just a pair of fitted training pants. His black hair had been braided tightly and then pinned into a bun, keeping it out of the way. 

"I'll be fine. I've been doing trial by combat since I was nine."

Jon just sighed. "You're not allowed to die on me, Damian."

"I won't! Quit worrying!"

Damian pushed up to his feet, stretching his shoulders.

The trial by combat was between Damian and Mara. Whoever won was the one telling the truth about Mara's assassination attempt. It was simple and brutish. Jon hated it. Damian had only come back two days ago, and with Mara's trial, they hadn't gotten to spend any time together since the first evening. Hadn't discussed what had happened last time Jon had been on Earth. Or what their relationship was. It made Jon uneasy.

"Would you calm down? I don't even have super senses and I can tell you are nervous."

"If you die I'll be sent back to Krypton and who knows what is waiting for me back there."

Damian sighed and walked over, grabbing Jon's shirt. He tugged him around, and Jon was forced to look down at his green eyes when Damian gripped his hair tightly. 

"I am _not_ going to die."

"You don't _know_ that."

"Yes I do, so just-"

Jon ducked his head, smashing their lips together in an uncoordinated kiss, noses squished as he grabbed at Damian's hips, pulling him close. Damian gave a shocked noise and when he didn't kiss back, Jon pulled away, fear shooting through him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Shut the fuck up," Damian hissed, roughly pulling Jon back down.

Jon groaned as sharp pain ran along his scalp. Damian kissed him roughly, mouth demanding and searching for more. Jon eagerly gave him everything, their tongues rubbing together, saliva mixing as they made out desperately. And then Damian pulled away, forcefully pulling out of Jon's arms and taking a few steps back, chest moving quickly as he stared at Jon, pupils wide. Jon swallowed, reaching up a hand to smooth back his hair.

"I'm not going to die."

Damian turned and marched away, lips still swollen and face slightly flushed. Jon took a breath and then sullenly followed. Damian led him out to the sparring ring, where he was given a single Katana to fight with. Jon stood off to the side and watched quietly as Mara walked in. The two talked to Ra's for a moment, and then the Emperor left the marked off area.

Jon watched for all of five minutes, until Mara's sai went straight through Damian's stomach. Then he turned and walked out. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't be around when Damian died. He just couldn't. He left and walked out, into the halls, out into the gardens. He forcefully kept his hearing on his surroundings, on the roar of motors in the greenhouse. He would wait to hear the results. Either Damian would come and find him, or he would find out at dinner that he was dead. And then he'd go home, and he'd become no more than a human trophy. Granted, at the moment, he wasn't much more anyway. 

For two hours he stayed in the gardens. And then when he left, he just went to Damian's rooms. He wasn't particularly sure he was supposed to be in here without Damian, but it was a familiar space and he needed comfort. Malika was laying on the sofa, and she snarled softly at him, but didn't move otherwise, clearly recognizing him as a non-hostile. He stood in the middle of the room, looking around. Compared to the rest of the palace, Damian's room felt warm and safe. He walked over to the bookshelf, looking at the spines of all the books. He couldn't read english very well yet, and he could tell most of these weren't in English anyway. He made his way to the bedroom, looking at the huge soft bed.

He turned and walked out onto the balcony, getting a better look over the surrounding landscape. The area around the palace was beautiful, green pastures, full fields. Past that he could see a small village to one side, and a forest to the left. Jon sighed and leaned against the railing, looking down. Something felt wrong. He wasn't quite sure what. He just felt off.

"Admittedly, this is the last place I thought I'd find you."

Jon whirled, finding the door open, and a figure backlight by the room behind them. It had gotten dark. When had it gotten dark? He pushed it out of his mind and focused on the figure, which was undeniably Damian. He didn't speak, just stepped forwards, into Damian's space, pushing him backwards. Damian made a confused noise as he stepped back. Once they were fully inside, Jon took a step back, looking at Damian. This definitely wasn't right.

"You're not injured."

"I'm not dead either, so guess who was right."

"Damian. I watched Mara put a knife through your stomach."

Damian's eyes were glowing. It took him a moment to realize it as it was faint, but his irises were a brighter green, glowing just slightly.

"Not important," Damian hummed out, reaching for him.

Jon swatted his hands down. "Damian. I want an explanation."

The Prince had the guts to look offended. Jon crossed his arms and glared.

"Fine. Yes, Mara did injure me quite badly during our duel, but I ended up being victorious. Ra's has what is called a Lazarus Pit, and it can heal all kinds of injuries, and has even revived the dead before. As a reward, Ra's allowed me to use it to heal my injuries."

Jon huffed an annoyed sigh, turning and walking away, closing the balcony doors.

"Well, I'm glad you're not dead."

He turned around and found himself immediately pinned against the doors, the knobs pressing into his back.

"The Lazarus Pit has many side effects," Damian hummed out. "One of the many tends to be increased sexual endurance."

He pressed his front into Jon's, hands coming up to tease through his hair. Jon's hands automatically went to his hips as thoughts of what Damian could be suggesting ran through his head incredibly quickly. He was going to speak, but instead found Damian's mouth on his. He didn't even hesitate, just pushed back, returning the aggressive kiss. Damian pulled him back, away from the door, pulling at his shirt until he got the tunic off over his head. It was mindlessly thrown to the side as Damian rushed to get his hands back on Jon, to feel his hot skin and hard muscles. Jon picked up Damian as they neared the bed, dropping him on it with a little more force then he normally would, but Damian just gave a small shocked noise and then was reaching for Jon again, barely phased by being manhandled. Jon suspected that if anyone else had done that, they would've lost their hands.

He was on Damian in seconds, kissing his chest, his stomach, his neck, anywhere he could. His skin felt cold, almost abnormally cold, but Jon didn't have much time to think about it, not with Damian's fingernails on his back. He hurried to kiss him again, groaning slightly as he felt a small sting of pain, not enough to indicate actual damage, but enough to be noticeable. Damian's hands never really stayed still, ghosting over Jon's body, sometimes in his hair, sometimes digging into his shoulders or back, sometimes in his pants. Jon had moved to kissing Damian's neck when he started speaking.

"Six months," Damian murmured, hands in Jon's hair. "For six months I waited for you, for this. To have your hands on me again, your mouth on me."

Jon hummed in agreement, continuing to move lower, Damian's back arching up as he kissed along his stomach. Jon's fingers found Damian's hemline, tugging at the elastic fabric, and he quickly adjusted to lift his hips instead, allowing Jon to slide the pants off.

"Fuck, Jon. I've fucking dreamt of this day."

Jon looked up, Damian's hair had, at some point, been pulled out of its braid and was fanned out around his head. His, still glowing, eyes were dilated, and they met Jon's. The look of lust hit him as powerful as a waterfall, and Jon gladly let it sweep him under. He moved up for just a moment, catching Damian's lips in a quick kiss before ripping off his underwear. Damian's cock was already hard, and Jon didn't hesitate to take the cut length into his mouth, careful to keep his teeth away from it. Damian moaned in pleasure, hands dropping back into Jon's hair and pulling at it harshly. The noise just egged him on and he pulled away, licking up the shaft before taking it back into his mouth and sucking at the tip. Damian was gasping out broken English, mixed with another language Jon didn't recognize, but he could tell they were praises of some kind as his fingers carded through Jon's hair.

For some reason, pleasuring and serving Damian like this just felt right. It made Jon feel good to do it, and he certainly wasn't going to stop until Damian was satisfied. He kept sucking and licking and teasing until Damian was a moaning mess under him. And then he got a wicked idea. He collected a decent portion of spit from Damian's skin, because blowjobs aren't a particularly clean task, onto his fingers. He adjusted his own position slightly, not enough that Damian would really notice, and then cautiously pushed his first finger into Damian's asshole, pushing against the tight muscles until they gave and he was able to slip his finger.

"Fuck!" Damian screamed, his hips jerking and shoving his dick further down Jon's throat.

A few well timed sucks and licks, and a short minute of finger fucking Damian, and he came in Jon's mouth, letting out a throaty scream and yanking harder on his hair. Jon did his best to swallow down as much as possible. He wasn't given much breathing time after he pulled off, as Damian was pulling him up by the shoulders. The man pushed until Jon found himself on his back, Damian's tongue in his mouth, then cleaning off a trail of cum from his chin and throat. His movements were a little sluggish, but definitely not slowed much.

"You're not tired?" Jon asked as Damian sucked at a spot under his ear.

"No, I told you. The pit has side effects."

Jon hissed as Damian palmed him, chuckling against his skin. He pulled at Jon's trousers, taking them and his undergarments off easily. Then he kissed Jon again, this one deep and slow, taking his sweet time. Jon's hands slid up to rest on his sides, noting that the skin had significantly warmed up. When he pulled away, he grinned at Jon, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. Then he moved away, coming back and dropping a bottle into Jon's hand. 

"Prepare me," he murmured, leaning into Jon's chest and sucking at his neck.

Jon rushed to obey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hey, Maybe you kids could stop having sex?  
> Them: No, we wanna have sex  
> Me: well okay then 
> 
> Sometimes your characters are just really horny okay?
> 
> Fuck I love how this is a very serious and dramatic fic and I'm basically just shitposting in my notes. For more shitposting! Go check out my Tumblr!
> 
> Yikes.
> 
> Anywho. This chapter was super hard for me to write, or at least the first half of it. I nearly cried. Poor Wally. I love Wally. Someone tell me why I killed Wally.  
> (╥﹏╥)
> 
> Also R.I.P. Mara, and sorry to the person who said they were really excited to see her in this. Oops lmao.


	4. Long Live The Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of Damian's life was preparing him for this one moment.
> 
> The moment he would kill Ra's Al Ghul.

It was happening. Years of planning, months of replanning. It was all happening this week.

Damian was finally going to kill Ra's Al Guhl.

Saturday there was supposed to be a festival in honor of the Emperor. Damian intended to turn it into a coronation for himself. Friday, when he and Jon returned to his grandfather's fortress, they would waste no time in getting him alone and executing him. That was their current plan.

Currently, they were at Damian's palace in what used to be China. It wasn't quite as large or grand as Ra's, and had less of a medieval style to it, more Chinese architecture and decorations. It had once been Talia's but now Damian laid claim to it. It was nice, being in a place where he was the highest level of authority, where he didn't have to explain his decisions. He had his ten Kryptonian soldiers staying at the palace among the rest of his guards, as well as Jon.

The relationship with Jon has continued turning more romantic than previously anticipated. Damian wasn't necessarily a romantic person, but for some reason with Jon it was easy. He had been given his own set of rooms, not far from Damian's, but he ended up spending so much time in Damian's, several nights as well, in the first week of them being in the palace that he had given up and just joined Damian. So now they slept together. It was intimate and Damian was not used to it. It had taken him a while to get used to someone else being in his bed. Jon didn't try to touch him while they were sleeping, which he appreciated. He wasn't quite sure how he'd react to that.

He had allowed a month to pass between Jon's return and the assassination. He didn't want it to seem too suspicious. Plus, it allowed him to recover fully from the battle and from his duel with Mara. But it was time.

He felt Jon jerk and inhale sharply beside him. It was dark, late. The Kryptonian had struggled to adjust to Earth, apparently Krypton's days were longer, so he slept much less than Damian had to, comparatively. Not that Damian actually slept as much as a normal human should, what with all his duties, and the nightmares. . . No, most nights, like tonight, he laid awake beside Jon, stroking Malika's fur and just thinking. The alien took a shaky breath, and then rolled, adjusting, his knee accidentally nudging Damian's leg. He sharply pulled it back, going still for a moment.

"It's okay," Damian murmured, turning his head to look over.

"You're. . . Awake?"

"Yes."

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Jon mumbled, reaching up to rub his eyes.

Damian could just barely see him in the darkness.

"No."

"Good," came the tired response, and the shirtless Kryptonian rolled onto his stomach again, yawning into his pillow.

"What woke you?" Damian asked finally, abandoning Malika to face Jon, reaching out and gently stroking his hair.

"Just a bad dream."

Jon picked up his head slightly, smiling lazily and then dropping it, tilted so Damian could continue petting him.

"Hmm. What about?"

"Krypton. It's not important. Why are you awake, anyway?"

"I was never asleep," Damian informed him gently, tugging out a knot in his black locks.

"Oh. . . Why not?"

" . . . I too have bad dreams."

Jon hummed, turning again to look up at him.

"I think everyone does, my Emperor."

The familiar chills went down Damian's spine when Jon said that, a lazy smile still on his lips.

"I was thinking," Damian said quickly, pushing aside the strange feeling inside him.

"Yeah?"

"About this week's end."

"Oh. . . Are you nervous?"

"No. More. . . Concerned."

Jon nodded slightly, his hair making a small rustling noise on the pillow. 

"I just worry that things will not go as planned, that Ra's knows my plan and will be prepared. I've spent so long preparing for this, I won't let it slip from my grasp now. First mother, then Mara. . . And finally Ra's."

"It'll be okay, Damian. I'll be there with you if things go wrong. One way or the other, you'll have him dead at your feet," Jon promised.

Damian watched as he raised up, moving over so he was towering over Damian, and lightly kissed him, sealing his promise. Then he pulled away and fell back onto his pillow.

"You should really try to get some rest though," he murmured softly, shifting and pulling the soft sheets up under his arms.

Within a few minutes, Jon had dropped back off into sleep, leaving Damian alone in the darkness. He was sandwiched between Jon and Malika. The huge cat had refused to surrender her place on his bed with the addition of Jon, and luckily it was big enough to accommodate the three of them. Damian turned back to her, stroking along her side, feeling her ribs rise and fall slowly. For an hour, Damian's mind roamed freely, and then he closed his eyes and forcefully quieted his mind, pushing all the thoughts out until his mind was blank, and he fell asleep.

He woke up to Jon getting out of bed. Up with the sun, as always. He listened as the Prince and the Jaguar walked out, Jon letting her out of the rooms, before he came back and went into the bathroom. A few moments later, water started running. Damian sighed and stared at the ceiling, keeping his mind blank, focusing on the sound of water. And then he stood and walked into the bathroom, not evening bothering to knock as he stripped and walked into the shower too. Jon gave him a surprised look, but voiced no complaint, and happily helped him wash his hair. It was a mess to manage some days, but he would never even consider cutting it. 

As Damian stood under the hot water, staring at the tile wall in front of him, Jon slipped his arms around his waist, tugging them together. He began lightly kissing Damian's wet skin.

"So. Today."

"Yes."

Jon hummed, gently nibbling at his ear. Damian grumbled and tilted his head to allow for it. Jon chuckled, but pulled away, turning and getting out of the shower, leaving Damian to finish washing himself. When he was appropriately cleaned, Damian got out and accepted a dry towel from Jon, who had been rubbing his hair dry, sticking it up in every direction.

"After we pack, we shall leave," Damian told him. "I want to get this over with."

"Yes, my liege."

"Jon. You don't have to keep calling me that."

Blue eyes turned to him, and the dark head tilted in confusion.

"Not when we're alone, anyway."

There was a smirk after those words. "Of course. Whatever you wish."

Damian sighed at him and turned, walking out and going to find suitable travelling clothes. A few minutes later, Jon walked over, ducked his head to kiss the corner of Damian's mouth and then moved on like that was completely normal. A common interaction for Jon. It was almost amusing, watching the man flip between personalities. Alone with Damian, he smiled, he laughed, he was affectionate. When they were out in public, he was colder, making it seem like he disliked Earth, like he was trapped here. It was a good front, and had served them well so far. 

When they were both dressed in casual clothes, a servant arrived with their breakfast. They ate out on the balcony, since it was a bright and sunny day. They had learned the hard way that Jon needed a lot of exposure to the sun, since Earth's sun was so much different then Krypton's. Jon and all the Kryptonian soldiers. Jon chatted cheerfully as they ate, trying to, and successfully, distracting Damian from what the rest of their day held. Sometimes he accidentally slipped into the Kryptonian language, and no matter how hard he tried, Damian absolutely could not understand their language. So whenever Jon started speaking the language that barely sounded like one, he'd just reach out and kick or nudge him, or he'd just politely wait and then ask what the hell he had said.

Damian did the same thing with Arabic and Mandarin, so he supposed it was only fair. 

After breakfast they both packed quickly, traveling light. Damian went and found Malika, and then the three of them got on Goliath and took off towards the capital. The closer they got, the more jittery Damian was. Which was stupid. He was the heir of the demon. He didn't get jittery. He had been trained to do this since he was two. Jon reached over at some point and grabbed his hand, pulling on it and kissing the back of it, offering him a smile. Damian just blinked back, and Jon chuckled, kissing his knuckles before letting his hand drop. Damian frowned and reached out, grabbing Jon's hand again. He got a raised eyebrow but then Jon just relaxed and closed his eyes.

When they arrived, servants immediately took their things. They went to Damian's room to "freshen up" but really it was so Damian could pace for nearly ten minutes while Jon and Malika watched him boredly. Then finally he spun to them.

"It's time."

Damian watched as Jon pushed himself up off the sofa and walked over, grabbing Damian by the hips and tugging him close. Close enough that their bodies were touching.

"You will be fine," Jon murmured, ducking his head to pepper kisses on Damian's skin.

"Where was this confidence when I battled Mara?" Damian asked with a huff as Jon kissed his neck.

"Well, this time you have me," Jon rumbled softly, moving and pressing their lips together.

Damian kissed him hungrily. He really didn't know what was going on with Jon, but he knew that it felt good. Jon pressed eagerly back, tongues rubbing together, his hand sliding down and squeezing Damian's ass. Damian couldn't help the small moan that escaped his chest as he looped his arms over Jon's shoulders. 

"Shall we go, My _Emperor_?" Jon murmured, pulling away to lightly peck his lips.

"Might as well get this over with," Damian breathed out, a hand tangling up into Jon's hair.

He probably would've let Jon drop him into his bed and not left. He would've let Jon completely side track his entire day, just because of that mouth. Jon chuckled, as if he knew these thoughts, and pulled away, letting go of Damian. Damian turned away, strapping on his sword and shoving a knife into his boot. Then the three of them left again, heading towards Ra's throne room. When they got inside, Ra's had an audience with a man Damian recognized as the one of the leaders in Europe. Ra's eyes flicked up to the three, but only briefly. The rest of the audience took about ten minutes, and then the leader and his guards left.

"Grandson," Ra's said, motioning them forwards.

Jon stayed behind Damian, who bowed, offering a warm smile to his grandfather.

"Grandfather," he hummed, straightening when Ra's nodded.

"So, is it time then?" Ra's asked, standing.

Damian raised an eyebrow, clasping his hands behind his back.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Do not play me for a fool, Damian. I have my spies all the same as you," Ra's said, pushing off his ornate robes so he was just in pants and a light shirt.

Fear shot through Damian, but he didn't let it show, just blinked.

"Just say it, Damian," Ra's said, reaching for his sword. "We both know you're here to kill me."

Damian sighed and shifted his posture, a hand on his hip. 

"Fine. Ra's Al Guhl. I challenge you to a trial by combat for the right to rule Earth," Damian said, pulling his sword.

"I accept your challenge."

Damian felt a light touch on his back and knew it was Jon. Ra's stepped down off the throne, approaching Damian. He stood his ground, bringing his sword up to a defensive position. Ra's gently touched their Katana's together.

"Prince-El, please stand to the side," Damian said, reaching back and touching his arm.

Jon and Malika walked away and stood to the side. Damian glanced over and Jon gave him a slight smile. Damian looked back at Ra's, stepping back into a defensive position. Ra's just chuckled.

"This is not proper trial by combat," Ra's remarked, stepping back.

Damian watched as he pulled off his shirt and then kicked off his boots, tossing aside his sword scabbard. Damian waited to see if he would remove his boots, but he didn't, which immediately made him think the old man also had a knife down his boot. He copied the old man, glad he had put his hair in a bun before walking over here. Compared to Damian, Ra's looked weak, his skin was ashy, and wrinkly. His muscles were sinewy and compact, he lacked extra weight to fill out the space between the muscles and bones. Such was what came of a man who lived longer than a normal human life through supernatural means.

"I truly did wonder how long it would take you to come to this," Ra's said as they started circling each other.

Damian lunged first, crashing their blades together and then quickly pulling back, swinging at Ra's legs, it was easily deflected.

"After your mother, I knew your end goal. I expected it. You would not wait for me to step down or die, you are too power-thirsty for that."

Damian continued pressing Ra's back, sending a flurry of attacks at him, his body moving almost without his own command.

"Then, when the Kryptonians formed the treaty with us, and you asked for their Prince, I expected it to come shortly after," Ra's continued talking, almost unbothered by Damian's assault. "Once your cousin was dead, I knew it would not take long, so I had my spies follow you. They reported to me your meetings with your generals, your loyal soldiers. Your relationship with the Prince."

Damian suddenly moved back, taking a couple steps back, waiting for Ra's to attack. He needed to wear the old man out.

"It was only logical for you to do it tonight," he said with a grunt as he lunged forwards.

Damian side stepped and let Ra's go lunging past him, swinging his sword up and cutting into the old man's stomach. Ra's hissed in annoyance, whirling and catching Damian's side. The pain barely registered as Damian grabbed his sword on the flat side and yanked, swinging at his chest with his own sword. Ra's was forced to let go in order to throw up his arms and protect himself. Damian slid back, now armed with both swords. Ra's regarded him with a critical eye.

"You fight dirty, grandson. Where is your sense of honor?"

"I lost it the day you decided to turn me into a weapon, grandfather."

Damian tossed both blades to the side, and they slid away, towards Jon. He picked them up, which immediately put them out of play. Damian lunged forwards, spinning and jumping, aiming to kick Ra's in the head. Instead his foot was grabbed and he was yanked off his feet, the force of his kick causing him to flip over and land on his stomach on the ground. He groaned and yanked his foot away quickly, rolling to kick at Ra's shins before somersaulting backwards and coming to his feet. Ra's snarled at him and lunged forwards, throwing punches and kicks at him with malice. The only problem with his assault? Damian was stronger, and in better shape. Ra's tried to get him with a gut punch, but Damian grabbed his wrist, spinning and flipping him across the room.

Not one guard or servant in the hall moved a muscle, they all stared blankly across the room while the two battled it out. Damian thought he was winning, he kept landing blow after blow. Then suddenly Ra's grabbed him, flipped him to the ground, and pinned him down, hand pressing in on his windpipe. Damian groaned in complaint, thrashing as he tried to get the old man off. Then on a whim, he reached down, feeling the old man's boots until he found it, the knife stuck in the left one. He yanked it out, and blindly stabbed up at him. He felt the knife sink into skin and heard a yelp of pain. Instantly the pressure on his throat released and he threw his body up and to the side, throwing Ra's off. He yanked the knife out as the man fell and rolled, getting on top of him and trying to stab him.

Ra's easily caught his hands and the two struggled. Damian was very surprised when he was actually struggling to push back against Ra's, the man was apparently stronger then he looked. Then suddenly he stopped fighting, letting Ra's push his hands away, quickly pulling them out of his grip and adjusting, throwing his upper body in the way of his arms as he stabbed the knife down and into Ra's stomach. Another yell of pain came from Ra's, but he didn't let up, twisting the knife in.

"Ra's Al Guhl, you have prepared me for this every day since birth. You are no longer fit to rule this planet, and as your heir, I relieve you from your reign in the only way suitable for a man like you," Damian snarled out. "Death."

"Then do it," Ra's spat.

Suddenly there was a knife in his hand, and with a flash that Damian barely recognized, it had cut across his face brutally. Damian yelped in pain, falling back as blood immediately started streaming down into his eye. Ra's lept on him and Damian struggled to keep the man's knife away from his vital organs, it went through his shoulder, and cut across the edge of his neck instead. And then, as Ra's was pulling back to stab at Damian's face, he lurched up, sending his own blade through Ra's chest, feeling the resistance of bones. He twisted quickly and it slipped through to pierce through Ra's heart. The man let out a choked noise and Damian easily tossed him off after that, yanking the knife out. He rolled to his feet, his eye was stinging and in considerable pain, blood was in his mouth and it was rank in his nose. He watched Ra's thrash and bleed out.

"And so the Demon's head dies at last," he muttered coldly, glaring at the man.

Ra's reached a hand up towards Damian, and then promptly crumpled, body twitching one last time before going still.

"Long live the Emperor!" Someone yelled, and Damian looked up to see the servants and guards and even Jon, all bowing or down on one knee. Even Malika had her head bowed, like she understood the situation.

Damian reached down, taking off Ra's signet ring. He turned and limped, his leg in burning agony for some reason, his way to the throne, turned and plopped his bloody self onto it.

"And so the era of a new Emperor begins."

Damian smiled wickedly, staring across the room at Ra's bleeding body. Finally, after so long, he was the Emperor. No one on this planet could oppose him, and with his armies, they couldn't stop him either.

"Clean up that mess," he said dismissively, waving at it. 

"Yes, your Imperial Majesty," a servant murmured, and several launched into action.

Jon slowly approached, bowing at the edge of the stairs. Damian smirked and stood, cautiously walking down them until he was on the last step, just in front of Jon.

"My liege," Jon murmured, looking up at him with eyes that sparkled with so many emotions. Lust, joy, anger, fear.

"Prince El," Damian murmured, reaching a hand out and tilting Jon's chin up. "I believe I have a promise to keep to you."

Jon just smiled in return. Damian looked over at a guard.

"Fetch me a medical team," he ordered, reaching up to wipe blood from his face.

Jon offered him his shirt, and he used that as a towel while the guard ran away.

Malika slinked up the stairs and laid beside the throne like she knew she belonged there. Damian chuckled, snagging Jon's hand and leading him up, having him stand on the other side as he sat down.

"What is it you want, Jon?" Damian asked, looking up at him.

He felt giddy, like he was drunk. He wanted to please Jon, to give him whatever he wanted

"Name your price."

Jon just smiled softly, again, reaching out, a warm hand pushing hair from his cut.

"We can discuss that later, my liege, you have more important details to organize."

Damian huffed, leaning back in his throne. He grinned at the thought. _His._ The medical team quickly appeared and bandaged his injuries as best as possible. He would go visit the Lazarus Pit later, but for now they needed to stop the bleeding. They murmured quietly over the state of his eye, but he waved them off when he had to start legal matters. Eventually, it came time to deal with his grandfather's advisors. Everyone of them feared him, but looked at him with contempt. They already knew their fates.

" _Love_ ," Damian hummed, reaching over and touching Jon's arm. "Why don't you deal with them for me?"

Jon gave him a shocked look, but nodded. "Yes, my Emperor."

Damian watched with satisfaction as Jon brutally murdered every single one of them. No weapon needed, just his brute strength. With that problem solved, and a palace wide announcement made, Damian stood. Any global announcement would wait until tomorrow morning. He needed to rest and heal.

"Any other matters can be dealt with in the morning," Damian stated, matter-of-factly. 

He walked out, and found Jon and two Kryptonian guards following him.

"What?" He asked, less annoyed at Jon's presence, in fact he had some plans that involved the alien, and more annoyed at the guards.

"I thought it best to put my own soldiers as your guard detail for the evening, My Liege. People will not be too pleased about this recent change in leadership."

Damian nodded as he considered this. He led the three of them down into the deepest part of the palace, where the pit lay. The two guards remained outside, while Jon entered with him.

"So this is the Lazarus Pit," he commented, walking over and staring at the bubbling green liquid.

"Indeed," Damian responded, cautiously stripping. Every part of his body ached.

Jon glanced back at him and smiled lightly, leaning on the wall as Damian walked over and slipped into the waters, sinking all the way up to his shoulders.

"So, I've advanced to Love, now?"

"I'm in a good mood, so I suggest you decide what you want now before I come into a foul one and am considerably less hospitable."

A chuckle came from his left, and Damian just slid further into the water, up to his ears. It felt odd, sitting in the Lazarus Pit. It felt like his skin was burning and freezing at the same time. When Jon didn't respond, Damian took a deep breath and fully submerged himself, keeping his eyes open as he went under water. He stayed there until his lungs were absolutely burning, and then he came up, gasping for air, pushing his soaked hair back. At least that had survived the fight. Even if he ended up with a huge scar on his face, he'd still have his beautiful silky hair.

"What if I want to stay with you?" 

Damian's head snapped over to look at Jon. He had moved to sit cross-legged on the edge of the pool, watching Damian with a guarded look.

"I thought you said you didn't want to be married off," Damian asked, relaxing back into the pool.

"I don't. Don't get me wrong, I still want to do something, fight, lead an army, whatever. But I also want to stay here, with you. Or wherever you go."

Damian looked back over at him, holding up a hand. Jon reached out and intertwined their fingers. The contact caused tingles throughout his arm. He blamed it on the pit.

"Be wary of what you say, Jon. Vocal contracts are still legally binding."

"I know. But if I remember correctly, you're the one who started all this."

Damian chuckled. "So I am."

He moved over to the edge of the pool, putting his wet arms on Jon's legs, smirking up at him.

"So, you wish to be a general by day, and my lover by night?"

"Sure," Jon said with a shrug.

Damian pretended to consider this, pretended like he hadn't already planned for this.

"I'll see what I can do," he murmured.

He reached up and grabbed Jon's shirt, pulling him down until they could kiss. Jon eagerly kissed him, tongue and lips searching. Damian allowed it for a moment before pulling away, falling back into the water with a small splash.

"There will be plenty of time, and energy, for that later," Damian murmured, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into the water.

He stayed in the pit for a while, finally emerging after well over thirty minutes. The liquid drained off every part of him but his hair, leaving him almost completely dry. He pulled on his pants again and walked away, expecting, and rightfully so, that Jon would follow. It was already dark outside, so Damian headed straight for his rooms. The guards were left outside, once again, and Jon spoke to them in Krypton before closing and locking the door behind them. Malika was already in there, laying on top of the pile of cushions like she owned them. Damian just walked towards the bedroom, going to take a proper shower, again, for the second time that day. But he needed to get the pit water out of his hair.

He stood in front of the mirror after, examining his body. The scar cut across his face was thin, but long, going from his chin, up to his forehead, narrowly missing his eye. It was barely there, and over time he'd probably stop noticing it. The cut across his side had healed into a smooth pink gash, and he had a starburst on his shoulder from that stab wound. He sighed, pulling his wet hair back into a braid, and then exited the bathroom, not bothering to dress. It wouldn't be necessary.

Conveniently, Jon was lounged on the bed, reading from a thick book Damian faintly recognized. He looked up, eyes lazily dragging from Damian's legs, lingering, and then up to his face. Damian's smirked and sauntered over, pulling Jon's book away and straddling him.

"So, Lover by night, how do you intend to seal our arrangement?"

Jon reached up, putting a hand on the back of Damian's neck, forcefully pulling him in for an aggressive kiss.

"Is this sealing, or a consummation?" Jon joked, rolling Damian underneath him as he kissed down his chest.

"That would imply we are married."

Jon just gave a hum and Damian let out a rough moan as Jon's warm mouth closed around his cock. 

No one could quite take him apart like Jon could. He could do unspeakable things to Damian with just his mouth alone. And frankly? Damian didn't want anyone else to even try to match Jon. He didn't want anyone else. Just this handsome prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me realizing I may have been spelling Al Ghul wrong this whole time. I think I've been spelling it Guhl, not Ghul. Oh well. Just gotta fix it from now on.....
> 
> Anywho! Shorter chapter this week, but I think that's okay due to the contents of the chapter :)
> 
> Long Live the Emperor.


	5. Even the Gods Have Weaknesses

"Are any of these to your liking?"

Jon looked over to Damian, smiling softly at the man. The Emperor was decked out in jewelry and fine clothing, he sorta jingled when he walked due to all the metal on his person. It was endearing. He looked absolutely stunning, his black hair pulled into an intricate style that Jon knew would frustrate the living hell out of him later. The thin scar on his face had been easily hidden by makeup and all his features were accentuated by it. There were so many layers to his ornate robes, Jon didn't even know how to begin to describe them, but black and gold were present on every level. Damian favored the two colors, apparently.

He turned and looked back at the several regimens assembled below them, considering, contemplating. It had been only a few days since Damian had killed Ra's, and he had held his promise. The moment he had finished clearing up the legal issues that came with murdering your predecessor, he had begun picking soldiers for Jon, assembling one of the finest fighting forces the empire had ever seen.

"I'd like to talk to their commanders," Jon told him, looking back over.

"Of course, love. Whatever you wish."

Jon smiled and received a small smirk in return. Damian stepped closer, pressing into Jon and sliding a hand up his chest.

"Anything you want," Damian reminded, his voice a low purr.

Jon chuckled and ducked his head enough to be able to kiss Damian gently.

"Why?" He asked softly.

Damian raised an eyebrow, pulling back enough that Jon would be able to see his face fully.

"Why, My Liege? You said if I helped you, you would give me anything I wanted, but let's be honest, I haven't done much for you, have I?"

Damian chuckled lightly. "I suppose not."

Damian kissed him again and cut off his next protest. Jon sighed softly into his lips, wrapping an arm around his waist and kissing him gently. The speed with which their relationship went from strictly private, physical contact allowed only in solitary, to Damian being very open and affectionate with him was nearly alarming. It occurred to Jon that it was probably because he hadn't wanted Ra's to find out. But now Ra's was gone, and as Damian had proudly announced one day, no one could stop him now. It was pretty sexy.

Damian pulled out of the kiss and stepped away, snapping to call a guard.

"Get the commanders of these regiments up here," he ordered. The guard scrambled away.

Damian leaned his back into the railing and smiled up at Jon.

"I've yet to hear back from your father," he commented, watching as Jon returned to scanning the troops.

"It may be . . . We have this seasonal storm," Jon explained, unsure how to say it's name in Terran. "It tends to cut off transmissions from across the universe, not even the Lanterns can get messages through."

"Are they really that much of a problem in your sector?" Damian asked.

"Slightly, it wasn't until Father started trying to conquer the nearby planets. They didn't like that much. They don't really care about what we do on our planet, but."

"Ah. That's how they are with us. Our Green Lantern, his name is . . ." Damian hesitated for a moment as he searched his memory. "Hal. Hal Jordan, he's a human, and while he hates us, he can't do anything about my empire, because we don't violate any of the treaties we have with the Lantern Corp."

"Our alliance isn't a violation of that?" Jon asked cautiously.

"If it was, he would've showed up on my doorstep by now," Damian said, shrugging carelessly. "Hal would take any centimeter he was given to prove our empire was not obeying Lantern treaties."

Jon nodded in response, going to answer, but stopping as three people walked up to them. They all fell into bows.

"The commanders," Damian remarked. "I'll leave you to it. Let me know what you decide."

He kissed Jon quickly before sauntering away, off to complete some other royal duty. Jon watched him leave with a small amount of despair. He looked down at the three people. Two males, one female. He could instantly tell she was significantly younger than the other two, smaller, as well.

"Arise," he hummed out, crossing his arms.

They stood. The man on the left was clearly the oldest, hair graying and cut short. He looked the definition of military, arms held tight at his sides, gaze forwards. The man in the middle was a little younger, brown hair streaked with gray, and slightly longer, but slicked back from his face. The woman on the far right was several inches shorter than Jon, five or six, and was thin and lithe. Her blonde hair was nearly as long as Damian's, kept in two braids that were tied together. Her eyes were blue, and diamond shape marks ran along her cheekbones. He instantly liked her the best.

"Names, time in service, and are you willing to serve under a Kryptonian?" He asked bluntly.

The first two answered mechanically with "if it is what my lord wishes". The girl, Katherine, answered with a smirk and a "I've got nothing to lose". He really liked her.

He spent the next hour talking with each Commander and inspecting their troops. By the end of this, he knew which one he wanted to lead. He thanked the commanders and dismissed them, walking back inside the palace to find Damian. He found him in the conference room, looking over papers. Jon had passed people, very terrified looking people, on his way in, so he expected a dramatic mood shift from earlier. He wasn't disappointed.

"What?" Damian snarled without looking up as the door closed.

"I was just coming to tell you I decided. If this is a bad time, however-"

"No. Jon. It's okay, come here."

Damian sighed and looked up, resting his chin on his hand as Jon walked over. He bent and gently kissed Damian's forehead before moving behind him and gently rubbing his shoulders, trying to get the tension out of them. Damian gave another sigh, relaxing into the touching, allowing his body to crumple slightly.

"What was it you had wanted to tell me?" Damian asked after a minute.

"Oh. I want the third one. The one with Commander Katherine Branden."

Damian hummed, reaching forwards and grabbing a file.

"I thought you would." He passed it over his shoulder. "She reminds me of Maya. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're friends. Or at least friendly."

Jon grabbed the file and looked at it to see it was a file on Katherine. He gently set it down, returning to his massage. Damian hummed in pleasure, letting Jon work as he finished whatever it was he had been settling. Then he closed his files and picked them all up.

"Where are you off to now?" Jon asked, grabbing his own file.

"I have to hold an audience, assign new advisors, oversee training of the newest recruits, and then stop by and gloat over my father," Damian told him, standing and heading towards the door.

"Man, you were a lot less busy before you became Emperor."

"That does generally come with the territory. Things will settle down with time, I'm still trying to assert myself as the ruler."

"I suppose so. Well, do you have anything you want me to do?"

Damian paused in the hall, looking over at him.

"Well, I did need to talk to Jason and Roy, you can do that for me if you wish . . . "

"Sure, I'll read this, talk to Commander Branden, and then go do that. Anything else?"

"Relax. Have a nice bath. I don't know, do something so I can live vicariously through you."

Jon considered this as they continued walking again, heading towards the throne room.

"Or I could save that bath until tonight, and then you won't have to live vicariously through me."

Damian glanced over with a smirk, but said nothing, stopping outside the throne room and turning. He looped his arms over Jon's shoulders, pulling himself up close.

"Sounds amazing," he purred, lightly kissing Jon.

"It's a plan then."

"I'll see you later, Love."

Jon watched Damian walk away, into the throne room. He chuckled and turned, walking to find someplace quiet to read. He ended up in the library. The room was ginormous, books stretching up multiple stories, with platforms and stairs and ladders everywhere. There were a couple of sections of sofas and tables, designed for reading and studying. He flopped on one such sofa and balanced the file on his knees, flipping through it. Apparently, Commander Branden was a metahuman, with alien heritage. She had psychic and telekinetic abilities, and intense combat training. She had worked as a spy for a long time before starting to move up the ranks very quickly. She had been promoted to Commander just last week, after several deaths of her higher ups.

Those may or may not have been his doing.

Jon finished the file and headed to his and Damian's room, ordering a servant to bring Katherine to him. The servant scampered away, and he relaxed back on the sofa, noting Malika was gone. He liked the Jaguar. She seemed to have warmed up to him, and must've sensed Damian's affection for him. She was a very smart animal. He was considering falling asleep when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter!"

The door pushed open and a servant walked in, Commander Branden on his heels.

"Commander Branden, my lord."

Jon waved his hand faintly, the servant turned and left. Jon sat up, but didn't adjust his lounged position much.

"My Lord," Katherine greeted, bowing.

"Commander Branden, do you know why I called you here?"

"Well, sir, I figured you are either gonna kill me or you've picked my troops to lead," Katherine said with a shrug.

Jon laughed, sitting up straight and shaking his head. Katherine raised an eyebrow, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Well. One of those is right, which do you think it is, Ms. Branden?"

She squinted at him slightly, but Jon kept his mind peacefully blank, thinking only of peaceful water. She laughed.

"You read my file?"

"Indeed. So which do you think?"

"I'll go out on a limb here and say that you picked my troops?"

"Good job." Jon stood, walking over. He held out his hand, and she shook it.

"It is an honor to serve you, my lord."

Jon smiled and nodded in return.

"Tomorrow I expect a full demonstration."

"Of course."

"Good. That is all, you may go."

She nodded and walked out. Jon watched her leave and waited a few minutes before walking out. It wasn't hard to find Roy and Jason, they were in one of the many training rooms. Jason was boxing on a sandbag that looked dangerously close to breaking. Roy was turning a target into a pin cushion, standing all the way across the huge room, and grouping his arrows beautifully.

"It's the Prince," Jason commented as he nailed the punching bag hard enough that it flew away from him.

"Damian told me to come talk to you two."

"And you just did? Didn't question him?"

"Do you question the Emperor when he gives you an order?" Jon shot back, crossing his arms.

"The kid's practically my baby brother, hell, he kinda is with the weird Bruce relationship," Jason said, turning to Jon. "So yes, more than you think."

"Jason, don't be an ass."

Roy shot his final arrow and walked over, putting an arm on Jason's shoulder and leaning against him. They were both sweaty, and Jon could smell the salty tang, coupled with a smell he had only ever gotten off of Damian. He decided not to think about that.

"But yeah, we did need to talk to Damian, kinda expected him to be the one to come though. Hence why we asked to talk to him."

"He's been a little busy, recently."

"I noticed," was Jason's dry remark.

"What's the matter?" Jon asked, sighing through his nose.

The two exchanged a look. "We want to get married."

Jon blinked. Opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Well that explained somethings.

"Which we understand is a mild issue, considering our ranks and jobs, which is why we needed to talk to Damian about it."

"Oh. . . Well, I'll bring it up to him."

Jason nodded, looping an arm around Roy.

"Well, if that is all-"

"No. Actually, Prince El, since you're here."

Jon paused, turning back to them, he had been preparing to walk out. A dark look had crossed Jason's face.

"I don't care who you are, or who your daddy is. I swear to any god that exists, if you are fucking around with Damian, if you are playing with him, I will cut off your dick," Jason snarled, glaring at him.

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"General Todd, I don't think that is the proper way to address a Prince."

"I think you missed the part where I said I don't give a fuck who you are."

Jon chuckled. "You humans and your expletives. I'll pretend to be concerned by your threats, if it makes you feel better."

Jason bristled and went to step closer, but Roy caught him.

"I do appreciate your concern for Damian, however. But it is unfounded," Jon told him, smiling warmly. "I'll discuss your request with him."

He turned and walked out, before Jason could pull him into another conversation. He considered trying to find Damian, but figured he was probably in the middle of selecting his advisors. So he went back to their rooms and settled in with a book, passing time this way. He liked reading, and since he had learned to read the Terran common language, he had started going through books rapidly. He had a lot of literature to catch up on. Human culture was strange. Poetry was very fascinating to him, especially the poet named Walt Whitman.

"For having super senses, you really are quite oblivious."

Jon jolted, looking up. His eyes landed on Damian, who was standing near the door, putting up his weapons.

"Oh, uh. Hi."

"Hello. Dinner is on its way, I wanted to eat up here."

"Okay. Do you want me to clear the table?"

Damian shrugged, glancing at it.

"If you wish."

Jon put a thin piece of ribbon in his book and set it down, standing. Malika immediately took his place, closing her eyes. He chuckled and slowly began clearing the table of books and papers and various dishes that had been placed there throughout the day.

"How did the rest of your day go?" He asked, aware Damian didn't like too much small talk.

"Mediocre at best."

"Didn't go gloat over Bruce then?"

"No. I decided coming back here would be more relaxing, and I need some relaxation."

"Yes, you do."

Jon glanced over to see Damian disappearing into the other room. When the servants arrived with their food, Jon instructed them to put it on the table, along with the bottle of wine it came with. He locked the door behind them before going to find Damian in the bathroom, wiping his makeup off.

"Did you talk to Jason and Roy?"

Jon hummed in confirmation.

"And what did they want."

Jon slipped his arms around Damian loosely, not restricting his movements too much.

"They want to get married."

Damian looked up at him in the mirror, eyebrow arched.

"Is that so?"

"Yup. Said they knew they needed to talk to you because of their positions and ranks."

"Honestly, I didn't think they were capable of talking to each other long enough to make a decision that big. From what I understand their relationship is mostly comprised of yelling and having sex."

Jon shrugged, kissing Damian's neck.

"I didn't ask why, just said I'd mention it to you."

After Damian had finished washing his face, and had removed his hair from it's many pins and ties, they went and ate, mostly in silence. After they were done, Damian walked away, into the bathroom. And then Jon heard water running. Curious, he refilled their wine glasses and headed in, finding Damian adding bath salts to his huge bathtub.

"You promised me a bath," Damian said with a chuckle.

"That I did," Jon confirmed, setting the glasses nearby.

A short while later, the tub was full, candles were lighting the room and making it smell pleasant, and Jon was slipping into the warm water, sighing at the pleasant heat. Damian took a moment longer to get in, putting his hair up in a loose bun before sliding in across from Jon. It was big enough that they didn't have to touch if they didn't want to, but of course that wasn't the point of this, was it. Jon reached out, finding Damian's hand, and tugging on him, pulling until the man moved over and into Jon's lap. They just relaxed together, sipping their wine and trading lazy kisses.

"What is this?" Damian asked randomly, as he sucked at a spot on Jon's neck.

Jon just gave a hum in response, watching the way Damian's hair floated on the water.

"You and I. What is this? I was content just going with it, but I think it's time we discussed it."

"What happened to lover by night?"

Damian sighed and pulled away, raising an eyebrow.

"If you were just my secretive lover, we would not walk around the halls kissing, Jon."

"No, I suppose not." Jon shrugged. "I assumed you had some grand plan for this relationship and that I didn't have much opinion in the matter."

"Well, you would, but you don't seem to have a complaint with anything I do."

Jon shrugged again, reaching up to pick up his wine.

"My advisors will want me to marry a woman, so I can have heirs."

"Krypton has technology that will solve that problem."

Damian's eyebrow shot up.

"Few Kryptonians are actually born biologically, Damian. I am one of those few. Most are DNA coding. Scientists can take the DNA of the two parents and use that to make a living, breathing child. I don't understand how it works, nor do I try. I just know it does, and it doesn't matter the genders of the parents."

There was a slight pause, and then Damian smirked, leaning in and kissing Jon.

"You have just solved one of my many problems, Habibi."

"Mm, glad to be of assistance."

"You do know what I'm going to be asking, then?"

"Of course. Ask and I will say yes."

Damian didn't ask right then, he just messed up Jon's hair, running his wet fingers through it.

"May I take your hand in marriage?" Damian asked finally, looking Jon dead in the eyes.

"Yes."

The kiss they shared next was heated and hungry. Jon known this was coming. Or rather, he suspected. It was one of those instinctual feelings he had. When he had first come to Earth, he had told Damian he didn't want to be married off as some prize. And that still held true. But if Damian viewed him as a prize, he made sure he was kept happy. He didn't think that he was just a trophy to Damian, not anymore. He pulled Damian tighter against him, sucking in his bottom lip.

Shrill warning bells pierced his ears, suddenly filling the air. He hissed and pulled back, wincing in pain. Damian was immediately jumping out of the bath, grabbing a towel and running out. Jon took just enough time to blow out the candles. And then followed. They dressed quickly, Damian throwing on some light armor to protect his vital organs. They barely took time to put on their boots before they were running out, down the halls. They ran into Maya in the stairs.

"What's happening?!" Damian snapped, practically jumping down as he cleared several steps at a time.

"Intruders in the cellblock!" Maya yelled back, catching up with him easily.

Damian froze and looked up at Jon, eyes wide. Jon scooped him up.

"Hold on tight," he ordered.

Damian wrapped his arms around Jon's neck and the Kryptonian dashed away, using speed to get down to the cell block in half the time. Damian blinked in surprise, wobbling when Jon set him down.

"Are you okay? I figured you were in a bit of a hurry."

"Yes. I'm fine, I just didn't expect that."

Jon gently grabbed Damian's chin and tilted it up, kissing him.

"Let me lead," he murmured.

Damian nodded, motioning. Jon unfurled his whip, which he had wisely grabbed, and turned, yanking the already unlocked door into the cell blocks open. He walked in, still in pain from the shrill alarms. The first corner they cleared revealed a group of five people were standing in front of a cell. Jon immediately recognized one of them as Tim Drake, he was being supported by a shorter, auburn haired man.

"Fuck, Jon-" Damian hissed just as the cell door swung open.

A man darted inside and then shortly came out with Damian's father, practically holding him up.

"It's okay, I got them."

Jon dashed forwards, and the third person, a woman, met him first, crossing her arms and taking his bodyslam full force. She barely slid backwards.

"Donna, we don't have time!" Another man yelled, eyeing Jon as the four of them retreated.

"Grayson." a snarl came from Damian, and Jon heard the familiar sound of his katana drawing.

Jon flicked his whip at the woman in front of him and it hit her stomach, ripping through her clothing and biting through her skin. She screamed in pain. The man carrying Bruce passed him over to Grayson, Jon watched warily as he pulled a sheathed blade from his jacket. And then he recoiled like he had been burned. The blade he produced was green and Jon could already feel the burn.

"Let us go or this blade goes through his chest."

"Jordan. The Corps will hear about this!"

"You're right! They will. They'll hear how you kept an innocent man prisoner for _months_ with barely enough food and medical attention to keep him alive."

"He is a rebel, a capital offense. Last time I read our treaties, I was allowed to punish and detain rebels and those threatening my kingdom."

"Hal, just leave it, let's go!" The auburn haired man yelled.

Jon felt Damian touch his arm. His heart was pounding. A look down at Damian told him how pissed the man was.

"No! Fuck it! I'm killing this asshole, once and for all."

"Hal!"

Jon watched as the man lunged forwards, towards Damian, and he didn't think. He didn't need to, he yanked Damian away, behind him. Pulling him to safety from the man's attack. The man yelled in fury and swung, his blade slicing through Jon's stomach like it was cheese. Jon felt the Starbursts of pain, but he didn't care, he grabbed the blade, feeling it burn his hand and he threw it behind him, hearing it shatter on the wall. Hal's eyes went wide as Jon grabbed him by the throat, squeezing hard. Blood was roaring in his ears and he was starting to see red.

"Jon! No! You can't kill him!" Damian yelled, grabbing Jon's arm.

"What the fuck are you talking about," Jon snarled, not looking away.

"Let go of him! That is an order!"

Jon threw the man back, watching him fall to the floor. The woman rushed forwards and picked him up, they turned and fled.

"What the hell!?" Jon snapped at Damian.

"Don't you think I wanted him dead! You can't kill him because that will upset the Green Lantern Corp and I do _not_ need them breathing down my neck!" Damian snapped back.

Jon felt sick. He wobbled dangerously, tilting as waves of something not good washed over him. He stumbled back and hit the bars of a cell, sliding down until he was on the floor.

"Jon? Fuck! Medic!" Damian screamed, ripping off his shirt and using it to put pressure on Jon's heavily bleeding stomach.

Jon could hear people all around him, people yelling, running past. He was being laid on something and picked up, but it was like all he could do was watch, he couldn't command his body at all. He kept seeing glimpses of Damian, his face a mix of emotions, sometimes panic, sometimes anger, sometimes fear. He wanted to wrap Damian up and kiss him and hold him and promise that they'd be okay, but he couldn't. He couldn't even breathe anymore. But that was okay. He didn't really need air anyway. He saw the hallways of stone blur past him, heard people yelling and screaming and then air was being pushed into his lungs. He looked to the side and saw Damian standing by the door, looking like he was going to throw up. And then he spun, running away. Jon tried to call out to him, but no noise came

Just the blackness that overtook him.

* * *

Damian screamed as he overturned the table, papers flying everywhere. The guard in front of him scrambled backwards, shaking in fear.

"You _IDIOT_ !" He screamed, whirling on the guard and stalking over.

He grabbed them by the throat and squeezed so hard the guard immediately started going limp.

"You had _one_ job. Just one. And that was to keep the rebels from getting in here, and even more importantly! To keep them from getting back out!" He yelled. "God! A simple death is too much of a reward for you!"

"Emperor Al Ghul," a new voice said softly.

Damian whirled, yanking this useless excuse for a guard with him. They stumbled, falling, so he tossed them to the floor, pressing his foot to their throat.

" _What?!"_ He snarled at this newcomer.

He recognized them as one of the Kryptonian soldiers.

"Emperor El has received our transmissions, he is waiting to talk to you."

"Finally! Deal with this cretin. And make it painful."

"Yes, my lord."

Damian stalked away, into the next room. Another Kryptonian was waiting with a tablet. He held it out when Damian approached. He snatched it away and turned it on, immediately greeted with a view of himself. He looked horrible. There was blood smeared on his face, his hair was tangled and frizzy, and he looked- well he looked like he was going to murder someone. He hit the connect button, and within a few seconds, the call connected.

"Emperor El," he greeted, trying to calm himself.

"Emperor- . . . Al Ghul?"

"You must not have received our prior transmissions. Ra's is dead."

"Oh no, we got them. I was just . . . What happened to you?"

"It's not what happened to me," Damian bit out, sitting down in a chair that was produced for him.

Kal's eyes narrowed significantly. He hadn't changed much since he left Earth, only now he was wearing a white crown.

"Earlier this evening, the rebels infiltrated the castle. They freed my father and his associate, Tim Drake. In the process . . . Jon was injured by a Kryptonite blade."

Kal went pale, his eyes wide.

"How- what. I." He took a shaky breath. "How bad is he?"

"He is stable for now. We have put his body into a stasis chamber until I could talk to you about what I should do."

"You don't- Oh Rao this can't be happening. You don't have the medical equipment to help him. Damn I knew I should've sent some with him."

"Kal. Tell me what I need to get."

"Let me get my scientists in here. I suggest you get someone who's really good with technology. And you'll need some Kryptonite."

Damian stood, ordering the servants to bring him their top scientist and engineer. They ran off to obey him, and while Kal was gone, Damian set down the tablet and started pacing. This was not good. This was not okay. This is why he didn't get emotionally attached. He knew something like this was bound to happen. Jon was such a powerful person, with the stupidest weakness ever. Damian may not be invincible, but at least he couldn't be taken down by a fucking rock. If that idiot lived through this, Damian was going to punch him.

"Emperor Al Ghul."

Damian snatched up the tablet. Kal was now surrounded by two people. Just then, a group of people walked in.

"I'm here. So are my people."

"Great. Okay. Here are my scientists, you need to get this completed as quickly as possible and use it on his injuries, even trace amounts of infection could be life threatening."

Damian nodded and passed off the tablet, ordering the scientist to do everything they were told. The team ran out, and Damian collapsed back into his chair. He got to sit there only two seconds before Maya walked in.

"My Lord, the Lantern Corp has arrived to talk to you."

"Oh for- Maya do I look like I'm in any shape to talk to them right now?!" He snapped.

"No. But we will use it to our advantage, don't change. Come on."

"Maya."

The general turned back to Damian, eyebrow raised. Then she immediately sighed softly, walking over and gently wrapping Damian in a hug.

"He'll be okay, Damian. He's strong."

Damian sighed, pressing his face into her shoulder. Then he straightened and walked out, heading towards the throne room. When he got there, entering through a side door, three green lantern members were there, chattering with each other. He, rather dramatically, stomped up to his throne and flopped in it, glaring at them all.

"Prince Al Ghul," one of them greeted, bowing.

"Emperor, actually," Damian corrected. "Ra's is dead."

"Oh. My apologies, Emperor."

Damian crossed his arms and glared harder. They needed to get on with this, he had more important things to do.

"It was reported to us of Hal Jordan's actions against your kingdom and we would like to offer our sincerest apologies."

"He attempted to murder my betrothed, after intruding in on my castle and freeing prisoners of the state. I expect some measure of punishment against him."

The lanterns exchanged a shocked look. Maya gave a mutter of "what the fuck?" from beside him. He ignored her.

"O-of course, Emperor Al Ghul. Unfortunately, Hal Jordan has yet to resurface, we have been having trouble locating his ring, which leads us to believe he has discovered how to hide it's location from us.

"No shit."

"But when we find it, and consequently, him, we will let you know what punishment he is given."

Damian narrowed his eyes. "I want to be clear. If my betrothed dies, so does Jordan."

"We understand," the leader of the trio said, nodding, but he had a bitter look.

"Now get out of my castle and go deal with your soldier."

They nodded and walked away, grumbling amongst themselves. Damian glared after them. The moment the door slammed shut behind them, Maya walked around into his sight line.

"Nice lie."

"I was not lying."

Her eyebrow arched.

"Okay. So when were you going to tell me?"

"Soon. It's been all of five hours since I asked him, Maya. I haven't even gone through all the legal issues of marrying the prince of another Empire," Damian said with a tired sigh, rubbing his temples.

"Oh."

"Bring me Commander Branden," he said, sighing again and slumping back into his seat.

She nodded and walked out. Damian stared across the room, spacing out, thinking. His father being loose would be a problem, in the future. They had confiscated as much of the Justice League's resources as they could find, but he had no doubt his father, originally born into a rich family, had plenty of money hidden away. He would rebuild the Justice League once he had recovered from his imprisonment. Even worse was that Timothy Drake was out, and he now knew Richard Grayson was still alive. He'd need to talk to Jason.

"I'm twenty-three, why on Earth is all this bullshit happening," Damian groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

He could almost hear Jon saying something like _"Well, you decided to murder your grandfather, Damian. You did ask for this."_ But then he'd back the mildly scathing comment with a gentle kiss and reassure Damian that he'd support him no matter what. If he died, there would be hell to pay.

The door opened a few minutes later, and Katherine Branden and Maya walked back in. Katherine bowed, staying down on one knee.

"Commander Branden. I am in need of your services."

"Yes, my Emperor?"

"I am aware of your abilities as a Meta. I need you to find out who let the rebels into the castle. Who our mole is."

She looked up, frowning. "My Lord. There are hundreds of people inside this palace-"

"I am aware. I have a list-" he snapped and someone gave it to him. "-of people who were unaccounted for at the time of the attack. You and General Ducard will visit each of them and I want you to use whatever means necessary to find out what they were doing."

She nodded, standing and stepping close enough to take the list.

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. Go do it."

She and Maya walked out. Damian watched them leave and then stood, walking away. His feet carried him down to the large medbay, and then into the private room they had put Jon in. He walked to the stasis chamber and put a hand on it, staring through the glass at Jon's pale face.

"You can not die on me, you hear? We are working on equipment to save you, you just need to stay alive, you dumbass," he said with a sigh. "When you wake up we're going to have a serious talk about taking hits for me, especially when they're clearly Kryptonite. God you're so dumb."

He shook his head sadly at Jon, who, of course, didn't move. Damian sighed again and walked out, going to find the team working on the device, finding them all furiously building. He watched for a moment before finally heading up to his room. Malika gave him a concerned look, tailing him closely as he walked to the bathroom.

"I've had a horrible evening, Malika. Frankly, a bad day too."

She made a noise that sounded almost like a laugh. Damian sighed, draining the bathtub and then slowly stripping, getting in the shower and washing the blood and sweat from his body. He talked to Malika through the glass, telling her everything that happened. She, having no choice, listened patiently, offering a helpful snarl when he told her about the Lantern Corp.

"Yes, they are pompous assholes, you're right."

He got out and dried off, rubbing her head gently before going and pulling on a fresh set of clothes, laying down on the bed. Malika hopped up beside him, putting her head on his chest.

"Wake me up in a little bit, darling."

She just blinked at him. So he closed his eyes and ordered his body to go to sleep.

He woke up to knocking on the door, and Malika snarling at it. He pushed her head off and walked over, pulling open the bedroom door, and then walking out and opening the main door.

"What?" He asked, glaring at the servant standing outside.

"My Liege. They need you in the medical bay."

"Very good."

Damian closed the door, grabbing his katana and strapping it on. He put on some boots and threw his hair up into a messy bun before walking out, heading directly towards the med bay. He heard screaming at one point, coming from the guards barracks, but he didn't question it. He reached the med bay and found the scientist and the doctors whispering about something.

"What is it?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Emperor Al Ghul!" They all bowed. "We have the device the Kryptonians instructed us to build ready.

"Very good. Then let's put it to use."

They exchanged a look.

"We will have to take him out of stasis to do so, my liege."

"And?"

"And if we do that, the rate of poisoning will be exponentially faster. Meaning if this doesn't work. . . " She let the sentence hang.

"If it does work and we don't use it, he's still dead. Go and do it," he ordered.

They all nodded quickly and the team rushed into the room Jon was in. Damian went in and stood by the door, out of the way, watching as they got all their equipment ready. Then they turned to him.

"My Lord, it would be best if you were the first face he saw," the doctor suggested.

Damian nodded in agreement, stepping closer. They deactivated the stasis chamber, and then it opened. Damian quickly grabbed Jon's hand, squeezing it, leaning closer. There was a pause, and then Jon took a shuddering breath, eyes coming open.

"Damian?" He mumbled, blinking, eyes unfocused.

"Hello, Love," Damian murmured back, reaching up to gently stroke Jon's hair back from his face.

"Everything hurts."

"I know. The doctors are going to get to work on you, okay. You just have to stay alive."

"The Kryptonite-"

"Yes. We know. We talked to your father and it's handled," Damian assured him.

He glanced over and saw the doctor standing on Jon's other side, something that looked like a hairdryer in her hand. Damian narrowed his eyes slightly, but decided to leave it alone.

"They're going to start, Jon. Just stay alive."

"Damian don't-" Jon stopped, wincing in pain. "Please don't leave."

He squeezed Damian's hand tightly, Damian wanted to sob from how scared Jon sounded.

"I won't, Love. I'll stay right here with you, okay?"

"Okay."

Jon closed his eyes, and Damian moved to be standing by his head, still holding his hand. The doctors had him put on a mask, but other then that, left him alone, putting an oxygen mask on Jon, and starting their work. The hairdryer esq device was actually a ray gun, emitting blue rays that Damian discovered was drawing out the Kryptonite radiation. They concentrated it on the cut on his stomach, and then on his hand where he had grabbed the blade. Then they quickly stitched together Jon's stomach with a small needle made of Kryptonite, once again using that blue ray to draw out the poisoning. Damian watched them work in silence, watching the dark red blood that stained their gloves and medical gowns. Jon seemed to be mostly out of it, but he never stopped gripping Damian's hand.

What felt like hours, but was really just thirty minutes, passed, and the doctors started cleaning up, bandaging Jon's stomach, and putting a salve on his hand. He was asleep by now. The last doctor turned to Damian.

"My Lord, he will rest for a while, you should eat and rest as well," she told him, offering a polite smile before turning and walking out.

Damian didn't move for a while, just looking down at Jon's sleeping face. The amount of panic he felt over this situation was almost laughable. He, Damian Al Ghul, a cold blooded murderer, a man thought incapable of emotions, was panicking over a man he harbored strong feelings for. A man he may even love. He shook his head and kissed Jon's hot forehead.

"I'll come check on you soon, beloved, just rest."

He squeezed Jon's hand once more before carefully pulling his own out and placing Jon's on his chest. He stepped back, looking at the man for a moment, then he turned and walked out. And immediately smacked into Roy.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" The Commander exclaimed. Realizing who he had run into, he quickly bowed. "Emperor Al Ghul, please forgive me!"

"It's fine, Harper," Damian muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

"Hey, Maya and that Branden girl were looking for you earlier," Roy told him, eyes scanning over him, clearly concerned. "So was Jason."

"Where are they?"

"I don't know where Maya is, but Jason went to bed, he was about to pass out."

Damian nodded. "Jon told me what you wanted," he said, turning and walking away.

Roy hurried after him, walking beside the tired Emperor.

"And?" Roy asked cautiously.

"To be honest, I don't give a fuck. I know Jason, and I know you, and if you two want to get married then you've probably talked about it, or yelled about it. I don't know, I don't care. But your loyalties will be to me foremost."

"Of course, my liege."

"Roy, just. . . Stop. I'm too tired for that right now. Help me find Maya?"

Roy gave him a shocked look, but nodded. Together, they walked around the palace until they located Maya and Commander Branden in the mess hall. Normally Damian would send servants to fetch people for him. But he was feeling weird and just needed to walk and clear his head. Roy's familiar presence, like that of a brother, helped him feel comfortable. When they walked in, Maya jumped up and bowed.

"Emperor Al Ghul, we've located the traitors."

Damian nodded, motioning for her to continue. Branden walked over, bowing as well. They explained that they had questioned everyone on the list and Katherine had discovered three of them to be traitors, working together and selling information out to rebels.

"The rebels had promised to take them with them when they fled, but you and the Prince didn't give them the chance. What would you like us to do with them?"

"Make an example of them. Tomorrow, call everyone to the courtyard and give them the standard lashes. Then execute them."

"Do you not want-"

"The person I want to kill, I can't touch, Maya. So deal with it."

Maya nodded curtly. Damian looked at Branden.

"You. Did Jon get to talk to you before all this?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"I want you to take control of his private guards for now, I want a Kryptonian and one of your guards watching the med bay at all times."

"Yes, my lord."

Damian nodded, satisfied, he turned and walked out again. After a moment, Roy jogged to catch up with him.

"What do you need?" Roy asked, watching him as they walked.

"Have some food sent to my room," Damian ordered.

"Yes sir."

Roy stopped following him, so with a sigh, Damian walked to his room, looking at Malika when he walked in. She made a small grunting noise but just moved over to sit beside him when he sat down. He gently stroked her, smiling.

"You're a beautiful girl, Malika."

A blink was his response. Damian sighed and slid to lay beside her, wrapping an arm around her and staring at her black fur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love letting them be engaged and then promptly trying to kill Jon, APPARENTLY.
> 
> How do we think Kal will react? 
> 
> God everyone in this story is an Asshole™ and I'm loving it.


	6. Words Hold Power

Jon woke up to immense pain in his stomach. He groaned and reached a hand down, resting it over the white gauze. It stung, burned, and throbbed all at once. When he opened his eyes, they were blinded by painful white lights. He groaned again and closed them, reaching a hand up to rub at them. With his eyes down for the count, he reached out with his other senses. Smell gave him the acrid scent of sanitization products. Hearing gave him the hum of machinery, and the breathing of two people nearby.  


He carefully felt his body, one hand was sore and his sense of touch was significantly reduced. He remembered grabbing the kryptonite blade with that hand. He didn't feel sick, like he had poisoning, but he did feel tired and sore. He didn't have many injuries, he can tell that just by his pain alone, but the slash on his stomach was big. He pulled his eyes open finally, squinting as he let them adjust. The room he was in was closed, there was a window to one side, but the blinds were mostly closed. The bed he was laying on was in the middle of the room, and it wasn't particularly comfortable. He heard low voices outside, and then the door opened.

"Oh!" A woman exclaimed, immediately taking a step back when she saw he was awake.  


She turned and spun back out, talking quickly with someone outside before coming back in with another woman.

"Prince El, I'm Doctor Thompkins, I've been taking care of you for the past few days," the older of the two said, stepping closer.

Jon nodded in understanding.

"How are you feeling?"

"Horrid," Jon groaned out.

She gave him a shocked look. He blinked at her.

"I'm sorry, Prince El, could you repeat yourself?"

"Horrid," Jon said again, and then realized what he had done. He had spoken in Kryptonian.

"My apologies, I said I feel horrid."

"Oh. Where is your pain located?"

"In my stomach."

She nodded and moved over, gently pulling down his blanket and then slowly pulling off the bandage. He winced as the tape pulled at his sensitive skin.

"How long have I . . . Been asleep?" He asked, his throat raw and scratchy, and his normal translation skill and speed greatly diminished.

"Uhhh, what was it, Wednesday when the attack happened? It's Tuesday."

"Oh my- Is Dami- Emperor Al Ghul?"

"We sent a servant to inform him you were awake, just relax."

Jon sighed softly and let his head fall back down, answering questions and wincing in pain as the doctor cleaned his injury and rebandaged the wound. Then the door flew open, and a very welcome sight entered.

"Damian!" Jon exclaimed, sitting up.  


"Jon," Damian breathed out.

The Emperor rushed over, sitting on the edge of the bed. He cupped Jon's face, eyes scanning over him. His face was full of worry, open concern obvious.

"Are you okay?" Damian asked, voice low.

"I think so."

Jon licked his lips and noted how chapped they were, but he didn't care, leaning in and kissing Damian quickly. The other man pressed back, a hand running up into Jon's hair. Then he pulled back and smacked Jon's arm.

"Never do that again!"

"What?!" Jon exclaimed, ducking away.

Damian had never hit him before. Even a hit as small as this was a shock. He knew what Damian was capable of, how quickly his anger flared.

"If you ever, and I mean  _ ever _ , move in front of a hit from some form of Kryptonite for any reason ever again, I will make your life worse than any amount of Kryptonite radiation," Damian snarled. "Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Yes, my lord," Jon muttered.

He was both terrified and oddly aroused. Damian scoffed and kissed him again quickly, knotting a hand in his hair and then pressing their foreheads together.

"You're a dumbass, you know that? I had to call your father just to keep you from dying."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Damian gave another huff of a breath. He turned to the doctor and nurse who had been standing to the side awkwardly.

"How are his injuries?" He asked, slowly detangling his hand from Jon's hair.  


He mourned the contact the moment it was gone.

"His wounds are healing rather well. The cut on his stomach is further along than a week old injury should be, and the burns on his hand appear to be healing fine," Doctor Thompkins said, looking at a clipboard. "If he can keep down solids, I don't see why he needs to stay here any longer."

"Are you hungry?" Damian asked, expression softening as he looked at Jon.

"I could definitely try eating," Jon told him with a smile.

Damian almost smiled back. But he looked away, giving the nurse a pointed look. She ran away. The doctor finished writing something and gave Jon some medicine.

"I'll give you two some privacy," she said, walking out without another word.

They looked at each other silently for a moment. Jon took this time to examine Damian. He looked tired, a little ashy in the complexion, but other than that, he seemed fine. His hair was swept up into a messy bun, pieces falling out everywhere. He was wearing a black shirt and black pants, almost like the under layer of his armor. He had no jewelry, or any decorations on. Jon reached out, grabbing Damian's hand with his burned one. The man scowled, pulling his hand away to trail his fingers along the scabbed skin.

"I'm serious, Jon. I don't want you risking your life like that," Damian said, speaking much softer.  


"I know," Jon responded softly, gently dropping his hand into Damian's lap. "I just didn't think about it, I moved without thinking."

"Well think next time."

"Sorry."

Damian sighed and moved closer, gently kissing his forehead. He didn't say it, but Jon knew he was stressed, worried even.  


"What's happened since I got hurt?" Jon asked, running his fingers along Damian's leg. The material felt weird under his mostly numb fingers.

"Well. Your Commander and Maya found the rebel spies, they've been dealt with. The Green Lanterns are doing their best to find Jordan, but he's apparently surrendered his ring. Your father is calling me nearly every day, worried sick but the best I can give him is that you're not dead yet," Damian hummed, tapping on Jon's arm for a moment. "I think that's all the important things. I've just been busy trying to get my empire running smoothly."

"Hmm. Not a single thought spared for me then, huh?"

Damian sent him a leer and said something in a language Jon didn't understand. He chuckled and then winced in pain.

"What? What's wrong?" Damian asked, eyes going wide with worry.

"I'm fine. Laughing just hurts."

"Oh."

Jon looked around the room. "Can you open the curtains, I think I need some sunlight."

"Oh, right, of course. I should have told Leslie about that."

Damian jumped up and went over, opening the window before coming and sitting next to Jon, gently placing a hand on his leg.

"I had to tell my advisors about our engagement."

Jon snapped his gaze over. He had, admittedly, forgotten about that due to everything that had happened. Damian chuckled as he realized this.

"You didn't really forget, did you?"

"I guess it just slipped my mind. What did they say?"

"They weren't that pleased, but what are they going to do about it. I figured after you were back on your feet and recovered, we would go about the process of getting your father's permission."

"Ugh. Do we have to? He won't go easily, you know."

"I know. And yes, we have to. Because without it they can claim I am taking you in a non-consensual wedlock."

"But I consented."

"Things don't work like that in our types of government, beloved."

Jon sighed, reaching up to twirl a chunk of Damian's loose hair around his finger."  


"I know. . . Okay, fine, let me talk to him first, I'll break the news gently. As gently as one can tell a father that his treasured child is getting married and he has little to no input in the matter."

Damian chuckled, turning his head to kiss Jon's wrist. The door started opening, and Jon dropped his hand to Damian's lap, looking over to see the nurse walking in with a steaming tray of stew

"Oh, my God," Jon said, the moment he caught a whiff of it.

He sat up straighter and eagerly accepted the stew, eating it cautiously at first, and then quicker when he realized his stomach wasn't going to reject it. Damian sat beside him and watched with mild amusement. When Jon had finished the food, he took the tray and set it to the side, chuckling at Jon.

"I think, love, that you'll be able to leave this room here soon," Damian told him. "Which is good, because you badly need a shower."

"Hey now."

Damian hummed, bending and kissing him lightly, slowly deepening it, licking into Jon's mouth as he parted his lips. Jon's hand found its way up Damian's shirt, feeling his warm skin and sucking his lovers top lip in. Damian hummed, pulling away slightly.

"You taste like stew."

Jon didn't bother responding, just kissed him hungrily, pulling him closer by wrapping an arm around his waist. Damian leaned into him, bracing a hand against the bed. Jon heard the door open, but he didn't pull away, as Damian bit his lip slightly. Whoever had entered stayed quiet. Damian pulled on Jon's lip lightly, then pecked his lips.

"What?" He asked without looking back, continuing to gently kiss Jon.

Jon, however, tilted his head enough that he could see past Damian. Jason was standing by the door, eyes averted down at the stone floor.

"Emperor Al Guhl, we've been given information on the whereabouts of Hal Jordan and Bruce Wayne."

Damian perked up, pulling from Jon and turning to Jason.

"And?"

"We believe they are taking refuge with some suspected traitors in the southernmost continent."

Damian's eyes lit up and he grinned wickedly.

"Take a team and go look into it. I want them alive, Todd."

Jason scowled at him.

"I said alive, not unharmed. Feel free to rough them up a bit."

That caused a smirk to grow on Jason's face.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Unfortunately we'll have to turn Jordan over to the Lantern Corp, but that doesn't mean we can't get our revenge on him first," Damian mused, gently running his fingers through Jon's greasy hair like it wasn't disgusting.

"Of course, my lord."

"Go and see that it is so. Report back what you found."

Jason nodded and started to walk out, pausing in the doorway.

"Speedy recoveries, Prince El," he said before leaving, letting the door click shut behind him.

They looked at each other, Damian was grinning. He leaned in and kissed Jon quickly.

"Okay, I have to get back to work, I was in the middle of a meeting. You rest, and after my meeting I'll come and see about getting you moved to our room, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be back shortly, love."

"Thank you, Damian," Jon said with a smile.

"Anything for you," Damian responded, kissing him again before standing.

They smiled at each other and then Damian turned and walked out. Jon watched him leave and then let his head fall back against the elevated back of the bed. He was pretty tired still, he needed some direct sun exposure. Hopefully Damian would remember to mention that. He yawned and pulled the blanket up over his bare chest and let his eyes close, listening to the machines around him until they lulled him to sleep.

He didn't dream often. It wasn't something Kryptonian's had happen, they just didn't enter the REM sleep like humans did. But he was unlucky enough that when he did dream, they were never good. This brief dream was just flashes of memories, of being cut by his grandfather as a young child for being "useless" and "disgusting", of his grandmother screaming at him for disgracing them. He snapped awake as she hit him, coming to and finding Dr. Thompkins stood near him, messing with a machine.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you," She said, glancing at him.

"You didn't," he said with a groan, reaching up and rubbing his eyes.

"You sounded like you were having a bad nightmare."

"It wasn't really a nightmare, just more of, memories."

She hummed. "Can I see your hand?"

He held it out and she took it, gently applying a salve to it.

"Did Damian tell you about the sun thing?" Jon asked, covering a yawn.

Her confused look told him no.

"I have to be in sunlight in order to stay healthy. Since Krypton and Earth have different suns, mine is stronger, so I have to spend even more time in yours light."

She hummed and nodded.

"Well, we'll make sure to get you some sun, for now let's just see how you do standing and walking, yeah?"

Jon sighed softly and sat up, feeling the muscles in his stomach yell in protest. He moved carefully, throwing his legs over the side. She grabbed his arm carefully, helping him come to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, feeling a little dizzy due to his blood pressure changing suddenly. Dr. Thompkins held onto him, making sure the man didn't fall right over. Once he steadied, he took a step forward, heading towards the window. He felt pretty good, all things considered. They walked around the room for a bit before Jon sat back down.

"How's that food staying down?"

"Well, I don't feel sick."

"Then you're fine," Dr. Thompkins said, patting his shoulder before walking away.

She did a few more things, then they discussed his discharge restrictions and how to do certain things, like shower. Then she left. Jon looked around the room, deciding he was going to get pretty bored, pretty quick. He sighed, laying down and looking at his stomach.

He really wasn't alone for that long before Maya walked in.

"Prince Jon-El," she greeted, bowing.

"General Ducard."

"Emperor Al Guhl sent me to oversee your move to his rooms. He sends his regards, as he is unable to escape his meetings again."

Jon chuckled, standing.

"Thank you, Maya, and you don't have to talk to me like that. You're Damian's friend, which means you're now my friend."

"Oh, thank God, talking like that is so stuffy. I don't know how anyone does it," she said, shoulders slumping.

"I understand the sentiment," Jon said, smiling.

Since he had no IV line, they just walked out the door. A Kryptonian and a guard he didn't recognize fell in behind them. Dr. Thompkins waved as they passed. Maya led him back to Damian's room, pushing the unlocked door open.

"Well, don't hurt yourself, get some sun. Damian said he'd try to be back around dinner time."

"Okay, thank you Maya."

She nodded and turned, starting to walk away before looking back.

"Oh, and these two guards will be outside if you need anything."

He nodded and she walked away. Jon turned and walked into the room. It didn't look any different then when he was last in here. Damian probably hadn't been in here much more then to sleep. Malika was nowhere to be found, so Jon decided to get a few things done. Firstly was taking a shower. His stomach was still bandaged with gauze to protect the stitching. But as instructed, he unwrapped it. She had told him he could go without the gauze, since he was already mostly healed, and had given permission to shower and such, as long as he was careful around the stitches. So he washed carefully, cleaning his greasy hair. If nothing else, he could make himself presentable for Damian's return. After his shower, he tugged on a pair of pants and walked out onto the balcony with a book and a chair, sitting down in the sun and reading for an hour or so, just letting the rays soak into his skin. He felt better almost instantly.

He went back inside after a while and found himself slowly cleaning up the room. He felt restless, and this seemed like the best way to occupy his time, since he wasn't allowed to do any physically straining tasks. Once the rooms were sorted, he picked back up his book and sat down on the sofa, lounging out and reading.

The door opened two hours later to admit Damian, Malika, and a servant, carrying a tray of food. The servant put the food on the dinner table and then hastily retreated. Damian locked the door behind them, then turned to Jon. Neither spoke for a moment. Then Damian walked over, tossing a tablet into Jon's lap.

"Call your father," he instructed. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Hey," Jon protested, snagging Damian's wrist and easily pulling him back.

Damian scowled at him. "What?"

Jon reached up, putting a hand on the back of Damian's neck. He pulled him down for a kiss, lightly pecking Damian's lips. The man sighed lightly but smiled fondly after.

"We'll have to tell your father here soon," he murmured, lightly kissing Jon again. "Not tonight, though."

"Okay."

Damian nodded in satisfaction and kissed him one last time before walking away. Malika sauntered over and hopped up, laying in between Jon's legs and dropping her head on his thigh, blinking up at her.

"Hey, beautiful girl."

She made a small grunting noise, closing her eyes as he rubbed her head gently. He chuckled and then pulled up the tablet, messing on it for a moment before figuring out how to send a transmission to Krypton. He waited patiently as it went through. Finally the call connected, it was heavily pixelated.  


"Hello?" A voice called.

The call cleared and Jon was able to see his father and his graying hair, worry lines obvious. It took a moment, and then his face lit up.

"Jon!" Kal exclaimed.

"Hey dad!" Jon said with a smile.

Kal easily slipped into their native tongue, smiling brightly at Jon, who had to make a more conscious effort to switch languages.

"I'm so glad you're okay! How are you feeling?" Kal asked him.

"I'm a little tired, but I don't feel like I have any residual poisoning."

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that! Seriously we were so scared-"

"Don't lie, dad," Jon said with an eyeroll. He could smell Kal's bullshit even light years away.

"Okay. Fine. I was worried."

Jon shook his head lightly. "I am fine, father. The injuries seem to be healing well now that I've gotten some sunlight in."

"Good. You need to eat plenty and make sure to stay in the sun and-"

"I am not five, Kal! I know," Jon snapped, sending Kal a glare.

An awkward silence came over them.

"How's Krypton?" Jon asked finally, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

"Things are going well, we're preparing for your brothers wedding," Kal explained. "Are you going to be able to come back for that?"

"I-" Jon glanced away as Damian walked back in, thankfully dressed. He had a habit of not doing so when they were going to be alone. "I don't know, truthfully. What day?"

Kal went silent for a moment, clearly trying to remember the exact date. Finally his face lit up as he remembered, and he relayed the information with a smile.

"I'll look into it," Jon told his father, reaching past the tablet to lightly scratch Malika's ear. The cat licked his hand as he started to pull it away, moving a huge paw to rest on his knee.

"Jon. What's going on with you? Even before you got injured, you barely called."

Damian was pouring wine, shooting Jon an expectant look.

"I've just been distracted, father, I'm sorry, I'll try to remember."

Kal narrowed his eyes at his son. "Dammit. I knew this would happen. I just knew it. You've seriously fallen for him? Out of everyone in the entire universe? I would be more approving if you told me you decided to join the Lanterns, Jon!"

Jon just blinked back. Kal gave an annoyed laugh, rubbing his forehead.  


"You've made up your mind haven't you?"

"I have."

"Oh for Rao- you know what. Whatever. I'm tired of trying to protect you, Jon. You're right, you're not five anymore. So you can deal with the consequences when he inevitably gets bored of you. Don't expect pity from your brother or I."

Jon laughed mockingly. "Kal, you are a liar and you know it. You will never stop trying to control me. And if I was to come crawling back to you, you'd welcome with me open arms because without control, you are nothing."

"Watch your words, Prince El. When he comes to me for permission to marry you, I can say no. I would destroy this relationship for as little as a traitorous word."

Jon glared at the screen.

"Goodbye, Father."

He hit the end button and turned off the tablet, dropping it to the side. Damian was still over by the table, reading a piece of paper.

"I take it that did not go well."

"We have to be careful. He has half the mind to refuse your proposal."

Damian's eyebrow arched, but he did not look at Jon.

"You told him?"

"No. He guessed. He's more perceptive than one would think."

Damian hummed, setting down his paper.

"Let us eat."

Jon extracted himself from under Malika and walked over, sitting next to Damian at the table. They began eating slowly, Jon quiet, Damian still working apparently. The food was fairly good, maybe not the best, but still good. After dinner, they laid in bed together, reading. Until apparently Damian got bored. He set aside his book, flicking off the lamp beside him and dousing them into darkness.

"What was that for?" Jon asked, glancing over towards him.

Damian shushed him, and the bed and sheets shifted. The book was pulled from his hands, and then warm soft lips were pressed against his own. Jon eagerly leaned into those lips. It was like any time they touched, he didn't even have to think, he never wanted those lips to leave his skin. They kissed gently at first, light presses of the lips, Damian playing with his lips slightly, sucking them or nibbling gently. Then without warning, his hand slipped down Jon's pants. He gasped in surprise and pleasure, and Damian immediately shoved his tongue in-between his parted lips. Jon reached a hand up, tangling it into Damian's silky hair, tugging gently to pull him off.

"I don't think I should-"

"Shh, just relax, love," Damian purred, kissing his jaw. "Let me do the work."

Jon released his grip, and subsequently, his control. He often found himself in control when they were having sex, not that Damian was begging for commands or anything like that, but more like he just let go for a brief time. Damian smirked against his skin, kissing his neck while his hands worked Jon's pants off. He palmed his cock through the fabric of his undergarments for a moment before pulling those off as well. They were pulled out from under the sheets and tossed to the side.

Damian kissed Jon once more before sliding down, careful of his injury. He disappeared under the sheets of the huge bed, and Jon was painfully aware of his warm breath against his skin. He felt the man's hair on his thighs, his hands lightly ghosting across his hips. He pushed his knees up, creating a tent in the blankets. Damian lightly kissed his inner thigh, slowly sucking along the tight muscles. Jon released a shaky breath, clenching his hands into the sheet underneath him. Then he gave a sharp gasp as Damian's mouth left his leg and licked along his half hard cock. Jon cried out again as Damian lightly sucked at the head, his cock quickly becoming fully erect. Damian groaned as he slid his mouth down further around the large shaft. It wasn't often that Jon was given sexual favors, it was more likely that he gave them, he loved servicing Damian, but the emperor wasn't used to doing things for others.

But when he did, it was indescribable. It was like Damian had been born to suck cock, despite the irregularity of him doing so. He knew just how to use his mouth to work Jon apart, to get him hot all over. Damian's tongue rubbed along the shaft as he slowly bobbed his head, painfully slow, enough to have Jon squirming beneath him. Then he pulled back, sucking harder on just the tip, tongue flickering over it, under the foreskin. Jon cried out again and without thinking, reached down, tossing the blankets off to reveal his lover, digging his hands into the long locks, running his fingers over Damian's scalp. The feelings, the pleasure, oh it was so good. Jon moaned and writhed under Damian for what felt like eternity, while the man just took pleasure in tasting Jon's thick cock and the precum leaking from it.

"Fuck, Damian," Jon hissed, the human curse falling from his lips easily.

Damian, with a cock down his throat, just chuckled, swallowing around the intruding member.  


"Oh fuck!" Jon cried out, hips thrusting and ramming his cock further down Damian's throat.

The man gagged, pressing a strong arm against Jon's hips to hold him down. It didn't take him much longer, with Damian tormenting him so. He gave a rough cry as he orgasmed, and Damian just greedily swallowed down his semen, sucking Jon dry. Then he pulled off with a wet pop, kissing Jon's thigh again before looking up.

"Jon, let go of my hair," he ordered, but his voice was low and soft.

"S-sorry," Jon stammered out, his nerves were on fire. He carefully untangled his fingers from the strands.

Damian just smiled, licking his lips and humming. He just lightly kissed Jon's thighs and hip bones. Once he was released from Jon's grip, he moved back up, gently kissing his chest as he went. And then he lightly kissed Jon, mouth open. Jon instinctively pushed his tongue into Damian's, mixing their saliva together. He could taste himself in Damian's mouth, and it sent another bolt of hot lust through him.

"Curse these stitches," Jon hissed out, biting at Damian's lips.

The man chuckled, letting Jon do as he pleased. He could tell his lover's lips were swollen, and he just antagonised them further. He pulled away slightly, kissing Damian's face lightly.

"I love you," he murmured, the words falling from his lips without thought.

Damian completely froze. Jon was sucking on his neck when he realized what he had just said, and also went still.

"Fuck, I'm sorry-"

Damian pulled away, getting off the bed. Jon quickly turned on a light, sitting up.

"Damian-"

"No." The emperor held out a hand to stop Jon. He swallowed and wiped his mouth, staring at Jon with wide eyes.

Good going, Jon, ruin the mood with your big mouth.

"Do you mean that?"  


"I-"

"You can not say something like that unless you deeply, truly mean it. The last person who said that to me died by my sword, Jon," Damian told him, looking conflicted, but mostly angry.

Jon was silent for a moment. Then he stood, walking over and cupping Damian's face.

"Damian, I have never been more sure of anything in my life," he murmured, looking into the man's green eyes. "I think I loved you from the moment I met you. I would do anything for you, absolutely anything, not because I have to, but because I want to. I want to please you, to make you happy, to make sure you're safe. I love you, and I'll do whatever I need to in order to prove that to you."

Damian blinked at him, tears forming in his eyes.

"I didn't agree to marry you just because you're good at sucking my cock," Jon said with a sly smile, kissing Damian's nose.

Damian huffed in fake annoyance, shoving at Jon's chest, but immediately slipping his arms over Jon's shoulders.

"I love you," he repeated again, tilting Damian's head up and lightly kissing him again.  


Damian exhaled softly, resting their foreheads together. Jon slid his arms around Damian's waist, letting their breath mix together. He wouldn't lie, it would be nice to hear Damian say it, those three words. He wanted to hear them. But he knew Damian well enough by now to know better then to expect any verbal show of affection. Damian's hands ran up into his hair, fingers carding through the black locks.

"Okay," he breathed out, kissing Jon softly.

"Do you believe me?"

A simple nod was his answer.

"Damian."

Damian sighed, tugging on his hair.

"I think, in time, I will," he said softly. "You'll have to be patient with me, Jon. I'm not- emotional attachment is difficult for me. I learned the hard way that loving someone is how I get hurt."

Jon nodded softly. They kissed again.  


"I'm sorry if I upset you."

"It's okay."

Jon bent, scooping Damian up easily, an arm under his knees. Damian made an alarmed noise, but didn't resist as Jon carried him to bed and gently laid him down. He put a knee between Damian's, kissing his neck.

"Jon, your stitches," Damian reminded as the younger man bit his throat.

"I'll be fine," Jon purred out.

"No. You're not pulling those stitches, because that will set you back even further. Having sex now is not worth waiting another three weeks."

Jon huffed in annoyance, running his burnt hand along Damian's stomach and causing him to shiver from the strange feeling of the burnt skin.

"Fine," he groaned. "I think it's worth it, to have you screaming under me, begging for more, for me to go harder and faster. To watch you fall apart."

"Stop," Damian huffed out, pushing Jon off and away.

Jon laughed, falling to the bed beside him. He reached out and gently stroked Damian's cheek.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured.

Damian's gaze snapped over as his face flushed.  


"Flattery will not change my answer."

"I'm not trying to. It's just a fact. Do you have an idea how gorgeous you are? What you do to me, just by existing."

Damian opened his mouth to respond. Then closed it. Jon chuckled, gently tweaking Damian's nose before rolling onto his back.

"We need to bandage your stitches before we go to sleep."

"Right."

Damian pushed up off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom, he came back with a wet washcloth and a roll of gauze.

"I assumed you would wish to clean yourself up."

Jon stuck his tongue out at him, but accepted it, carefully cleaning dried spit and semen from his body before getting up, he pulled on underwear and sleep pants and sat on the bed, sitting up straight. Damian gently wrapped the area around his stitches with the gauze, pining it down with a small patch of tape. Jon carefully pulled a sleep shirt on to help protect the stitches even more. Then he slid back under the covers, laying on his side, propping his head up on a hand, smiling at Damian. His fiance put his hair in a braid, since he prefered to sleep with it that way.

"What?" Damian asked, glancing over.

"Nothing."

The Emperor sighed, tying the braid off and then getting in next to Jon, reaching out and gently playing with his hair.

"I am glad you are no longer in the medbay," he hummed.

"Me too. Well, probably not as much as you, because I was asleep, but, yeah."

Damian chuckled, gently pulling Jon over by the hair. They kissed lightly.  


"When I get these stitches out," Jon murmured, his lips barely leaving Damian's.

"I know. I'll be waiting," Damian responded. "I can be patient. I waited on you for six months."

"I know."

They settled down, for the first time in forever, actually touching as they slept. Damian's head was on his shoulder, an arm draped low on Jon's stomach. Jon had an arm lightly looped around Damian, hand on his lower back. Jon wasn't particularly tired yet, but Damian needed rest, and he would happily be the man's pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon said the words.  
> Damian didn't take it well...
> 
> I was telling one of my friends about this story and he promptly dubbed it the "Murder Porn" so that's just where we're at in life.
> 
> I definitely didn't proof read this, its way too difficult with how long these chapters are and I was busy all weekend which is when I usually do it. Honestly if anyone wants to Beta for me, I'm taking applications lmao!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'll see you next week!


	7. Communication is Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the two week break! I needed the extra time off to prep updates and just get some extra chapters done, due to how much work this story takes! 
> 
> Thank you for your patience! I hope to be back on regular schedule now!
> 
> Huge thanks to postwick for betaing for me! Check them out on Tumblr and Instagram @legitpumpkin !!!! 
> 
> Enjoy!

"No."

Damian sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Emperor El," he said softly, looking back at the holographic image in front of him.

They had agreed that after Jon had recovered and returned to physical activity, they would call Kal and Damian would ask for permission to marry Jon. Today was that day. They were in the throne room, a holographic projector on the floor in front of them, showing Kal, stood, wearing ornate, detailed robes and his crown. Everything was red however, due to the projection. Jon was stood nearby, somewhere beside Damian's throne, out of view of the transmission, but nearby to give input if needed. Damian glanced over to him now, and the Prince shrugged. Jon was wearing black trousers and a white tunic, his red cape clipped around his shoulders, and his whip at his side. He looked incredibly healthy, considering what he had just been through the past few weeks. Kal started speaking, and Damian pulled his gaze back to the other emperor.

"No. For a very simple reason," Kal said, crossing his arms. "I will not allow you to marry my son, because he is only seventeen."

Damian whipped his head around so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. His eyes were wide and he looked to Jon in horror. He was seventeen? But they had- the things they had done! Damian may not have many morals, but he had cut a man's dick off for having sex with a underage woman in the past, and yet here he was, having done the same thing. Jon sighed heavily, stepping up beside him, arms crossed.

"Father," Jon said, bowing his head slightly as his only formal greeting. "We discussed this. I may only be seventeen on Krypton, but Terran years are different, I would be closer to twenty in their years. As such, Da- Emperor Al Ghul' would only be around nineteen on Krypton."

Damian felt something akin to relief sweep through him and he slumped in his seat slightly.

"And on top of that, you know very well I am very soon to turn 18, and Kryptonian physiology is different from humans, making our age of maturity different than Earth's. So, seeing how the legal age to marry on Krypton is actually seventeen, and how I would actually be twenty in Earth years, and their legal age to marry is eighteen -sixteen with parental consent- your argument is simply bullshit and you're just being difficult."

Damian hid a smile, so this is why Jon was a diplomat. He certainly did his research. Kal's hologram scowled at them.

"Sometimes I forget I taught you to be a diplomat," Kal said with a sigh.

"You certainly seem to forget a lot about me, father," Jon snarked back, scowling in return.

Damian reached out, gently grabbing his hand and squeezing it, drawing his attention. He shook his head slightly. They didn't need to piss Kal off. Jon scowled at him but sighed, squeezing his hand back, then letting the contact remain, glaring at Kal.

"Emperor El. I am asking for your permission in an attempt to retain peace between our planets. Prince El has already agreed, and due to his status on your planet, I knew I would need to formally ask," Damian told him, cautious of his wording.

"Indeed."

This was a lot harder than originally assumed.

"And what exactly will you offer me in exchange? As a bride price, per say," Kal asked, his hologram waving his hand slightly as he talked.

Damian glanced up at Jon. Frankly there wasn't much he could give the Emperor. They were far more technologically advanced, they had stronger armies, and better resources.

"What would you want from me?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Admittedly? There is nothing I need from you. The alliance between our planets already gave me what I wanted," Kal said with a shrug. "You better come up with something, however, because I'm not giving away our Prince's innocence for free."

Damian nearly laughed out loud. Did Kal really believe Jon had refrained from sex his whole life? But he kept a straight face, staying silent as he contemplated this.

"I'm sure we can come to some kind of an arrangement," he said with a friendly smile.

Kal just blinked back. He turned his gaze to Jon, and the two conversed in their tongue for a moment. Judging from the look on Jon's face, the conversation was not going well. The prince spun on his heel and stalked away. Damian arched an eyebrow and rested his chin on his hand, his elbow braced on the armrest of his throne.

"Emperor Al Ghul. Do you love my son?" Kal asked, turning his gaze back to the younger emperor.

Damian had expected this question. And yet he still didn't know how to answer it. He was silent for a moment, staring at the floor.

"I think he's the closest I've come to feeling love since I was a child. That emotion was taken from me long ago," Damian said after a moment.

Kal scowled. "Do you actually care about him or do you just want to control him and use him?"

"Father!" Jon protested, stepping closer again.

Damian held up his hand to silence the prince.

"Kal, if I just wanted those things, I wouldn't be marrying him, now would I? If you forgot, you gave him to me, as part of the alliance. He is, technically, mine. Which I do believe means that I do not even have to ask for your permission to marry him, not in reality. But I am, because I respect you and don't wish to cause issues between our kingdoms."

"Damian. Do you care about him?"

"I would destroy the planet for him. I would face the entire Green Lantern Corp for him. The things I would do for him are unspeakable. Never again question my loyalty to Jon," Damian snapped, standing.

Kal was really starting to piss him off.

The man smirked lightly.

"I'll think about it."

The transmission died in a burst of red static. Damian grit his teeth and glared at the now empty space.

"He's an asshole."

Jon laughed bitterly. "What did I tell you?"

They looked at each other, and then Damian sighed, motioning Jon over. The prince walked over, and allowed himself to be pushed down into Damian's throne, the emperor promptly straddling him, despite the complaint of his tight clothing.

"Does he really think you haven't had sex? Especially not with me?" He asked, carding his fingers through Jon's hair.

"Well it's not like I went up to him and said 'hey dad, I just fucked Damian Al Ghul' after that first night or anything," Jon said, shaking his head lightly.

Damian chuckled lightly, kissing Jon quickly.

"Tell me, love, what could I give your father that will satisfy him enough to let us marry?"

"When I figure that out, I'll let you know," Jon murmured into Damian's lips, looping an arm around his back.

"Okay. If you two are quite finished."

They both turned to see Jason standing in the nearby doorway, arms crossed.

"Ah, Todd. What is it?" Damian asked, pushing his hands against the back of the throne to straighten and look at Jason.

The general had long since dropped formalities around Jon, he rarely used them around Damian, unless other people were present. Damian didn't even expect him to anymore, they were like brothers, after all.

"You're late for that meeting, and you need to go talk to Kathy," Jason said, nodding at Jon.

"Oh, fuck, right, I totally forgot," Jon grumbled, pushing back on Damian's hips.

He didn't move.

"Damian, come on, I gotta get up. We both have things to do, remember?"

Damian sighed heavily, yanking Jon's hair to tilt his face up and kiss him lightly.

"Okay. I'll see you at dinner then."

"Yeah, I'll keep trying to think of things for Kal."

Damian nodded, sliding back off Jon and then stepping back, eyes running over him as he sat on the throne.

"You look good there," he mused out loud, then offered a hand.

Jon took it and he pulled him up. They went their separate ways, Damian following Jason through the palace to the conference room where he had all his advisor meetings. He was having one now, assessing how the empire was running with the new changes he had made. He had immediately invoked no tolerance policy for crimes, murderers and rapists were executed, theft and other petty crimes had other, intense punishments sometimes forced labor, the intenseness varying on the severity of the crime, sometimes just imprisonment. Either punishment was not pleasant, and that was the point. He wanted the empire to live in peace, but that couldn't happen if there was not a bit of fear first. It couldn't happen if people weren't too afraid to commit crimes.

The North American continent was in the worst shape. Of course it was. Because that's where the rebels were mostly based. There were some on Australia, but not nearly as many. They had yet to capture Hal Jordan, or recapture Bruce Wayne, and it was severely pissing Damian off. If he was to capture his father, he was executing him on the spot, no more of this senseless toying with him, of rubbing it in how successful Damian had been without him. He wanted that man dead. And Jordan? Well he'd think up some cruel punishment for that traitor. Since he had defected from the Lanterns, Damian had rights to do whatever he wanted to the man, and he fully intended to make him suffer.

His meeting mostly consisted of each continents leaders reporting their current stock market, agriculture status, population, so on and so forth. Technical stuff like that. Boring things, but information he needed to know to properly run an empire. A month into his rule, and things were going great, all things considered.

After his meeting, he went to train with Jason for a while.

"So how'd your talk with Kal go?"

"Miserable."

Jason laughed, ducking under Damian's downswing, lunging forwards with his daggers and stabbing at his stomach, Damian easily dodged, retreating a few steps before swinging his katana quickly, bouncing off Jason's blades and turning it into cut at his legs.

"What happened? Did he say no?"

"He wants a bride price, as if his planet isn't more advanced than ours in nearly every way."

"Oh shit, what are you going to do?"

Jason disarmed Damian and lunged in with his knife. Damian kicked his leg up, kicking his arm away and then getting in close, gut punching the slightly taller man, hard. Jason grunted, stumbling back.

"I don't know. Jon is going to help me think about what we could do that will please him."

Jason nodded, warily eyeing Damian, waiting for his next move.

"You really want to marry him that much?"

"You really want to marry Harper that much?"

"Yes, but I love him," Jason countered, doing a flying roundhouse.

Damian caught his foot and sent him flying across the room. Jason hit the floor at a roll and Damian chased after, jumping on top and trying to pin him down.

"Do you love Jon?" Jason grunted out, punching blindly at Damian as he tried to throw him off.

"It's not that simple, Jason."

"If you love him, then it is."

Jason tossed him off, getting on top and grabbing Damian's hands, pushing on his throat. Damian forced his body to relax, and then when Jason's pressure released just slightly, Damian threw all his weight to the side again, tossing Jason off and then rolling the opposite direction, springing to his feet. Jason groaned and pushed up slowly.

"Good one, but faking is sloppy."

"Who taught you how to fight?" Damian reminded, running forwards and throwing a punch at Jason.

"You've gotten lazy in your time off, Damian."

"Lazy is not the correct word. Out of practice maybe."

Damian almost yelped as Jason suddenly flipped him to the ground, arms tight around his throat.

"No. Lazy. You've nothing to fight for anymore, so you don't keep in practice, you don't train, you spend your days in your throne room or in your rooms with that Kryptonian. Be wary that you do not become that which you destroyed," Jason said, his legs pinning down Damian's arms.

When Damian's head started pounding, blood and air cut off, he smacked at Jason's arm a few times, and the general let him off. Damian rolled away and onto his hands and knees, coughing a few times.

"Damian, you're practically my brother. I'll serve you loyally no matter what, but you need to be careful."

Damian shot him a glare.

"What." Jason shrugged.

He walked over and helped Damian up, keeping a grip on his hand. They were both sweaty, having sparred for nearly twenty minutes.

"It's okay to let yourself accept that you love him, Damian. No one is going to punish you for that. Not anymore. Loving is part of life, in fact I think it might be the most important part of life. Roy's helped me realize that. And I only hope you can realize that too."

Jason reached up, affectionately ruffling Damian's hair. Then he pulled Damian into a hug. Damian tensed for a moment before allowing himself to put an arm around Jason, his almost brother.

"I have to go talk to Roy quickly before dinner," Jason said, pulling away.

"Take a shower too," Damian said, huffing at him lightly.

Jason chuckled, turning and grabbing his knives. Damian picked his sword, putting it back in its sheath and strapping that on.

"You could use one too."

"Well of course I'm going to take a shower, I have to maintain my lofty and beautiful appearance, you, however, are known for being gruff and gross."

"You just want to smell nice so Jon will fuck you later."

"Okay, that's an added benefit, so what?"

Jason laughed, holding the door open for Damian, then falling into step next to him.

"Kal really talked like he thought Jon was still celibate or something, it was quite amusing."

"Parents tend to try not to think about their children not being pure and innocent, and Kal seems to be the most extreme version of that."

Damian hummed in agreement. Jason went painfully silent after that.

"Jason."

"Yeah, D?"

"Do you hate Father?"

"I don't know."

Damian stopped, confused, and turned to Jason, frowning. Jason sighed, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Some days, yes, I want nothing more than to watch the life drain from his eyes. But at the same time? He's the first person who ever thought I could be more than a street rat, he gave me a second chance, and I can't forget that."

Damian nodded, absorbing this information. Jason was staring at the floor, jaw clenched.

"But he's a rebel, an enemy of the state, so no matter what my personal opinion of him, I will do my damn job and protect your empire."

He chuckled lightly. "I'll never regret making you a general," Damian told him.

Jason smiled, shaking his head slightly and straightening. "I'll see you at dinner."

"Yes," Damian confirmed.

They split off, heading their different directions. Damian went to his room and cleaned up before calling servants to do his hair and pick out his outfit. Surprisingly Jon didn't come back during this time, but he wasn't really sure what his fiance had been doing this afternoon, so he assumed he'd see him at dinner as promised. He was dressed up in simple gray pants and a green sleeveless tunic, golden embroidery running down the front. He had golden bands around his biceps and diamond earrings studs, one of which was attached to an earcuff. His hair was curled lightly, and today he decided to go without makeup, knowing it would cause too much fuss later.

He arrived to the dining hall just after Jason and Roy, but only a minute before Maya. Jon and Kathy nowhere to be seen. Damian just settled in his normal seat and struck up a conversation with Maya about her plans for the newest recruits. Dinner was served not long after, and still, no Jon and Kathy. Damian waited another few minutes before calling one of the Kryptonian guards over.

"Where is Prince El and Commander Branden?" He asked, blinking up at the Kryptonian.

The guard tilted his head, eyes unfocused as he listened.

"They are in the cell block, my liege," he answered, tone gruff.

"Why would they be there?" Damian mused out loud, tapping his fingers against the table for a moment.

"Maybe Kathy found another mole?" Maya suggested. "She's been keeping a close eye, and ear, out for them recently."

Damian shrugged, looking at the guard again. "Go look into it, find out what they are doing, and report back. Or better yet, bring them with you."

"Yes my liege." The guard spun on his heel and marched out.

Damian looked back down at his food, returning to slowly eating. The food was good, but Damian was very interested, more concerned about what Jon was doing, and what he could give Kal, and how to keep the peace between their planets, and how to capture the rebels once and for all. They had finished eating by the time the guard returned.

"My liege." He walked up and bowed. "Prince El and Commander Branden were interrogating a rebel."

Damian looked over at Jason.

"We still have rebels in the cell blocks?"

"Just Diana. But Roy and I already questioned her and Jon knew that."

"Kathy's telepathic," Maya reminded him.

Roy made a small "oh" noise.

"Prince El sends his apologies, and sends me to tell you that he will return to your rooms shortly."

"Very well," Damian said with a small wave.

The guard returned to his post at the door. Damian tapped at the table, avoiding bringing his fingers to his mouth and biting at his nails, a habit he had found himself picking up recently.

"Well, we will see what comes of this," he said with a shrug.

He called a servant over and ordered for some food to be sent to his rooms for Jon. He stayed and talked with the three, the closest thing he had to family, for a moment before leaving, going to visit Goliath first.

Goliath, the big red dragon bat. The creature who served Damian loyally, despite him having murdered his family. This appeared to be a common trait in Damian's most trusted companions. He had his own private section of the stables, one that he could leave and return to freely as he pleased. Damian didn't need his services much these days, so he didn't try to restrain the beast. Sometimes he considered just setting him free. Tonight, Goliath was curled up in a pile of straw, crunching through a bone. But as soon as he smelt Damian, he abandoned his meal and came over, bending to snuffle at him.

"Hello, Goliath," Damian murmured softly, reaching up and stroking his big wet nose.

The beast snorfed in response. Damian didn't speak for a moment, just softly petted his friends nose.

"Jason tells me I should let myself feel love."

A curious sounding noise.

"I suppose I'm scared of what will happen if I let myself truly love someone. If our relationship is more business, or sexual, I can keep myself distanced. But I want to marry him. And I can't even bring myself to consider if I love him. . . Love is such a strange word."

Goliath snorted in what Damian decided was agreement.

"Oh well. I've already made my decision, love or not."

Goliath's big eyes blinked down at him. Damian smiled at the huge beast and patted his head.

"I shall try to remember to come visit you soon," he promised.

Goliath grunted again.

Damian turned and took his leave, wasting no time in heading to his rooms. Once again, no Jon. Damian just sighed and petted Malika for a moment before beginning to play his harp, just softly letting his fingers pluck over the strings. It grew dark outside, and Damian left the harp and moved to the main room, picking out a book from his shelf and settling into the sofa to read. He would wait up for Jon, no matter how late it would be. Vainly, he wanted Jon to see him looking nice. But he also wanted to make sure Jon was okay, maybe he was worried. It didn't occur to him after he had turned about twenty pages that not only was he not actually reading, but he had picked up _A City and The Pillar._ Why on Earth he had this book, he had no idea, but he, now greatly annoyed at himself, tossed it aside and instead stood, going and grabbing the bottle of wine that had been sent up with Jon's dinner, which was now undoubtedly cold.

Damian easily opened the wine and poured himself a glass, looking at Malika, who had been laying on the raised platform. She blinked at him, watching as he wasted no time in drinking the whole glass of wine.

"I'm a mess, Malika. Everyone is trying to get in my head and I'm annoyed. Why can't everyone mind their damn business."

She just blinked.

"And where is that man? It's-" Damian checked the clock. "-One am! How long does he plan on staying out."

He turned and poured himself another glass, leaning against the table, actually sipping this one. Then he stalked back over the sofa and sat on it again, picking up his book once again. He read about three pages before tossing it onto the floor.

"That's it, I'm going to find him-"

Damian had no sooner stood up then the door opened. He whipped around to face it, ready to yell at whoever dared intrude on him, especially when he's in such a foul mood. He was expecting a servant or a guard, or even Maya. But instead in walked Jon, looking extremely tired.

"Hi," he said softly, closing the door.

"Where have you been?!" Damian snapped, crossing his arms and glaring.

"I'm sorry," was all Jon said, turning and taking off his boots, leaving his whip on the weapons rack by the door.

"Jon."

"I got caught up with Kathy and we were questioning the Amazonian, and I guess I just lost track of time."

"It's 1:30am!"

"I know. I'm sorry."

Damian glared at him. Jon sighed, shedding his cape. He locked the door and then walked over, moving around the small coffee table to lightly grab Damian's shoulders.

"Damian. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize it would take so long."

He clenched his jaw, looking away.

"You had me worried, jackass."

"I know," Jon said with a small chuckle, kissing his forehead. "I'm going to go take a shower and then I want to go to bed."

"Your dinner got cold."

Jon looked towards the table, then shrugged.

"I'll live without it. Thank you though."

And for some reason? That was the final straw. Damian was in a mood, and Jon's flippant disregard for such a small, yet important, thing really pissed him off. He yanked out of Jon's grip and spun away, storming into the bedroom, and then out onto the balcony, slamming the door behind him. He leaned against the railing and glared out into the darkness. A minute later, the door opened, then closed much softer.

"Darling? What's wrong?" Jon asked softly, keeping his distance.

Damian didn't answer, just gripped the rail beneath him tighter. There was quite a pause, energy crackling around Damian, and he wanted it to break, to let it out, to tell Jon his frustrations and scream and throw a fit. But he just grit his teeth and held it in.

"Damian. Tell me what I did so I can fix it."

Jon's hand lightly touched Damian's shoulder and he jerked back. Jon immediately retracted the hand, looking confused and hurt.

"I'm not in the mood," Damian grumbled, looking away.

Jon didn't seem to know how to respond. Then he sighed, nodding.

"Okay. I respect your boundaries, I'm sorry for anything I've done. If you want to talk about it, I'd be happy to," he said quietly.

He stepped in close, kissing Damian's temple and then walking away without another word, closing the door behind him. Damian watched him walk into the bathroom. And then he was chasing after him, darting around the bed to reach the bathroom doorway, where Jon was starting to undress.

"I'm just tired of everyone sticking their noses where it doesn't belong."

Jon looked over, eyebrow raised.

"Everyone's been trying to get in my business all day and I'm tired of it. I'm the emperor! You'd think they'd learn to mind their damn business!"

"This is about Kal."

"It's about Kal! It's about Jason! It's about me being a wreck!"

Damian immediately regretted those words. He clamped his jaw shut, but it was too late. Jon frowned and stepped closer, gently grabbing Damian's hand.

"What do you mean?"

Damian stared at him for a moment. At this beautiful, wonderful man, that he definitely didn't deserve.

"Everyone keeps asking me if I love you and I don't know because I'm too scared."

Silence fell after the words, and Damian honestly can't believe he had just spoken them. He was going to blame the wine he had chugged.

"Scared of what?"

"All of it. Loving you, losing you, marrying you, not being with you. I don't know which way is up when I'm with you, but I don't ever want to be without you. I fear that you'll change your mind and leave me, and I'll be left with the shattered pieces. I'm scared that you'll be killed and I'll be left alone, having given my heart away and not knowing how to go on. I've never felt like this towards someone before, and I don't know how to deal with it."

Jon stared at him in silence for what felt like minutes, Damian's heart was beating so fast, and he felt jittery. Jon's face was a mask of controlled emotion. And that pissed Damian off more. He yanked his hand away.

"Damn you," he hissed, and stalked off.

"Damian, love, wait," Jon exclaimed.

He heard Jon chasing after him, but Damian just ran, slipped out of their room, and started down the hall.

"Damian!"

The footsteps were still following him. He knew that if Jon really needed to catch him, he would use his speed and strength.

"Damian, baby! Would you just listen to me?! Wait up a second, let me answer!"

Damian was heading to the courtyard, there were a few guards milling around, and they stopped, eyeing the upset Emperor and his shirtless fiance.

"Damian. Stop!" Jon snapped, sounding mad.

That startled Damian enough that he stopped, turning back around. Jon did look angry, but he walked right up to Damian, grabbing his hands, and dropping to his knees in front of him.

"Damian. I'm never going to leave you, not by choice, you own every part of me, my love, my life, my body. It all belongs to you. You never have to worry about that. I don't ever want to go a day without being beside you, I don't ever want to be alone again," Jon said softly, he looked so vulnerable, kneeling at Damian's feet, staring up at him. "I love you, I love you more than my own family, then the moon and the stars, more than the sun. I love you more than my own life. And I may not understand why I love you, I just know that I do, and that the thought of not being with you makes me feel actual pain. And yes, I am absolutely terrified, I am so scared of losing you, of you being killed, or hurt or anything. I want to be able to protect you from everything, but Damian."

Jon stood, gently cupping Damian's face.

"The fear of losing someone is one of the most beautiful parts of loving them. It makes us fight better, live more, and love stronger. It gives us a reason to love and to fight for that person. I may know that you are the most capable person on this planet, you are skilled and smart and cunning, but I'm still so scared for you. And that fear is what makes me love you harder."

Damian was biting his tongue now, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. Jon almost looked sad as he smiled softly down at Damian.

"So it's okay to be scared, Damian, just like it's okay to let yourself love."

"Fear and love are weaknesses," Damian breathed out, the lesson ingrained in his memory since childhood.

"No," Jon corrected without hesitation. "Love and fear are the two most valuable parts of life.

This wasn't right. Every time he thought of this, he knew he shouldn't be falling for Jon. It was a weakness that someone could and would exploit. It wasn't logical, it wasn't wise, it didn't make sense. But it felt right. And it made his heart almost _ache_ to think about. He wanted Jon, in so many ways. But not only that, he needed Jon. He needed him like he needed oxygen or water. He was a vital part of Damian's life now, and despite his fears, he knew he couldn't ever walk away from Jon. Not now.

He let a small noise, close to a sob, and immediately crumbled forwards into Jon, who easily caught him, arms wrapping around him to support him. Jon just held him close, resting their heads together and just holding him for a moment.

"I love you," he murmured again, soft enough that only Damian could hear it.

Damian tucked his face into Jon's shoulder, just taking him in, enjoying his presence, letting it relax him.

"wǒ zhǐ shǔ yú nǐ," he whispered.

Jon would have no idea what those words meant, but Damian did, and the confession of them alone was so freeing. Jon moved slowly, literally sweeping Damian off his feet and then turning, walking back to their room, Damian in his arms. He gently pushed the door open, bumping it closed with his hip before setting Damian down and just smiling slightly at him.

"What?"

"Nothing. Do I get to know what you said?"

Damian shook his head lightly, reaching over to lock the door.

"Go take your shower, love."

"You sure? Are you okay?"

Damian nodded. "I'm sure."

"Okay."

He ducked his head, pressing his lips to Damian's softly in a tender kiss, that action alone speaking as loudly as the whole speech he had given. When he pulled away, he gave another smile before turning and walking away. Damian watched him go before walking around, cleaning up slightly. He flicked off lights and then went into the bedroom, changing into sleep clothes and then going and getting ready for bed while Jon finished his shower. By the time the Prince had exited, Damian was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Jon flicked off the room light and got into bed next to him, scooting over and lightly kissing him a few times.

"I am sorry that I missed dinner. You looked wonderful."

"Thank you," Damian murmured, reaching up to run his fingers through Jon's wet hair, tangling it.

They kissed a little longer before Jon settled beside him, sleeping on his stomach like always.

"I thought of what you could give my father," Jon mumbled around a yawn.

"And what's that?"

"Hal Jordan."

Damian looked over at him in the dark, eyebrow raised, waiting for more explanation, but there was none. It made sense, the Emperor would want revenge for his son's injury, and not only that, but it would annoy the Lantern's. But unfortunately, Damian wanted to be the one to put a sword in his heart. He just hummed softly, closing his eyes.

"Night."

"Goodnight, Jon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is curious, "Wǒ zhǐ shǔ yú nǐ" means "I belong only to you"  
> I was doing some research on how to say I love you in Chinese, and(according to what I read) their culture doesn't really say I love you, it's more of acts of love and such. That phrase was an alternative way to say it, and damn if it ain't romantic.
> 
> Also today was another example of me going "Let's Make Everyone Hate Kal. Why? Because I Want Him To Be A Dick."
> 
> Anywho! I hope you guys liked this chapter! If you want an easier way to get update announcements and when I'm taking breaks and stuff, check out my Tumblr account @queerbutstillhere-writes!
> 
> I hope you folks liked this chapter! I'll see you next week!


	8. Making a Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Originally this chapter was over 8000 words, but I split it so we just get Jon's POV this week, and y'all don't have this enormous chapter to read-  
> Next chapter might be a little shorter because of thst.
> 
> Once again, thank you to Postwick for editing for me! Check them out @legitpumpkin on Tumblr and IG!
> 
> Enjoy :)

Jon sighed as he shoved the last piece of clothing into his bag, turning to look around the room for anything he may have missed.

"Don't forget your books."

"Oh, yes, thank you."

He turned to Damian, who was sitting on the bed, still in sleep clothes. They smiled softly at each other. Jon grabbed the books off the side table and carefully packed them inside the bag, before closing it. He left it on the bed and walked over to Damian, putting a knee on the bed and leaning forwards, kissing him lightly.

"Why did you let me do this?" He grumbled, pressing their foreheads together.

"Because I'm trying to make your father like me," Damian reminded with a chuckle. "It's only five weeks, beloved, you'll be fine. Most of that time you won't even be with your family."

"I know, but still. Five weeks."

"Here, I got you something."

Damian pushed at his chest, getting him to slide off. Jon sat on the bed, watching as the shirtless man walked across the room, into the closet. He raised his eyebrows, curious, but waited patiently.

He was leaving right after breakfast, going back to Krypton for Kon-El's wedding. He didn't necessarily want to do this, given his relationship with his family, but Damian was right, he needed to please Kal. They had yet to catch Hal Jordan, or come up with another "bride price". He would be gone for a total of five weeks, four of those for travel, and just one week on Krypton. He would be so screwed with the time difference, he was used to Earth and her shorter days, and he'd probably get sunburnt. Not to mention the family drama.

"Ah. Here we are."

Jon looked up from his feet as Damian returned from the closet. He had a small box in his hands, turning it over slowly. Then he walked over, dropping to his knees in front of Jon, who raised an eyebrow. Damian's hair was still tangled from sleep, the black locks frizzy. He smiled softly up at Jon, green eyes bright, and then he opened the box, holding it up. Inside was a beautiful ring, strands of gold, silver and platinum weaved together and smoothed down. Jon raised an eyebrow.

"What is this?" He asked, reaching out to take the box, gently looking at it.

"It's a- wait, do you genuinely not know what this is?"

"Well it's a ring, I can tell that much."

Damian chuckled and shook his head, taking the box back. He gently pulled out the ring, holding it in between his thumb and forefinger.

"Humans have this silly tradition of giving rings to those they wish to marry. We call them engagement rings." He reached forwards and grabbed Jon's left hand. "And then when we marry, we replace them with wedding bands."

"Oh," Jon said softly.

Damian gently slid the ring onto Jon's hand, on his fourth finger. Then he kissed his knuckles, and gently turned his hand over, kissing his palm.

"It's silly, I know, but I want you to have this."

"Damian, we're not technically engaged yet, remember? You haven't gotten my father's permission."

"Formalities. I asked you, and you said yes, I don't need your father's permission."

Jon chuckled, reaching forwards to stroke Damian's hair.  


"Okay, darling."

"Besides, your family won't know what it means, no? It'll be as pointless to them as this necklace," he said with a hum, reaching up and gently touching the aforementioned sapphire necklace.

"I suppose you're right. But I'll know."

"That's exactly the point."

There was a knock on the door, and Damian sighed.

"That would be our breakfast."

"I'll get it." Jon grabbed him by the elbows, pulling him up gently and kissing him.

He pressed Damian down onto the bed and then stood, walking out into the main room where Malika was hanging out. He gently patted her head and then walked over to the door, unlocking it and opening it. A servant stood outside, and immediately her face brightened when she saw it was Jon who opened the door.

"Good morning, Prince El!" She said cheerfully, holding out the tray. "Here's your breakfast."

"Thank you," He responded with a smile, taking the tray. "Mali!"

The large cat gave a small snarl and then stalked over, sitting in front of Jon. He bent and kissed her on the head.  


"Be good for your dad these next few weeks, yeah?"

She gave another snarl and bumped his chin, before turning and walking out the open door. He chuckled and closed it, carrying the tray back to the bedroom.

"Where would you like to eat today, my love?"

"Balcony?" Damian suggested, standing and stretching.  


"It's raining."

The Emperor turned and moved to the curtains over the balcony window.

"So it is. I suppose we'll eat in the other room."

Jon hummed and walked back out.  


"How did you miss that it was raining?"

"I don't have super hearing, love. And I didn't get out of bed the whole time you were packing."

They sat together, eating in relative silence. Jon had already showered and dressed, but Damian had barely moved all morning, and they had been awake for over an hour. After eating, Damian crawled over into Jon's lap and leaned against him, letting Jon gently run his fingers through his hair, gently detangling it.

"What are you going to be doing for five weeks?" Jon asked, solely focused on his task.

"Catching Hal Jordan and Father, hopefully. I think I'll leave things in Maya's hands."

"Wait, you're going after- in person?"

"Yes."

Jon stayed very silent for a moment. He didn't like that at all. Not one bit.

"Take Kathy with you."

"Isn't Branden going with you?"

"No, remember? Roy is."

"Oh yes. Jason was fairly pissed about that, I remember now."

"Please take Kathy, I'd feel better about you hunting them down if I knew she was by your side," Jon said softly, stroking his hair lightly.

"Okay, since you asked so nicely."

Jon chuckled, shaking his head. He pressed a kiss to Damian's head.

After a few minutes, they had to get up, Damian went to get changed, while Jon finished gathering his things. Then together they went to the small hangar where Roy and Jon would be taking off to rendezvous with the Kryptonian ship that had come to pick up Jon. Jason and Roy were already there, waiting. Jon got his things loaded on the ship, then walked back to Damian, pulling him into a deep kiss.

"I'll be back soon. You be careful, okay?" He said softly, pulling away to look into Damian's eyes.

"I'll be fine, Jon, just watch out for yourself."

Jon nodded softly. "I love you," he murmured, gently pecking Damian's lips again.

Damian didn't respond, but with the way he pressed into Jon, he knew.  


"You better call me in two and a half weeks when I'm on Krypton."

"I will," Damian said with a chuckle, gently running his fingers through Jon's hair.

Jon kissed him one last time and then forced himself to pull away, stepping back and smiling at him softly. Damian smiled back, lifting a hand in a farewell wave. Jon turned and walked back to the airship, pausing near Jason.

"If anything happens to him, even something as little as a paper cut, I want you to call me, okay?"

Jason nodded. "You keep an eye on Roy, and I'll keep an eye on Damian."

Jon smiled and nodded. He and Roy got on the airship and started their two week long trip.

Traveling for two weeks in a big flying metal box wasn't fun, and Jon had done it since he was a kid. Roy, on the other hand, had never had the pleasure of space travel, so between that, and the process of the biopatch adapting his body, he was sick for nearly a week. By the time he was healthy again, Jon had slipped so far back into Kryptonian speak, that he had to forcibly make himself speak English, just for the Terran. Roy, much like Damian, was for some reason incapable of learning Kryptonian, the only person Jon had met on Earth who could even understand it was Kathy, and that was because he had allowed her to read his mind during their brief lessons. The crew, Jon's preferred crew, took an immediate liking to Roy, because he was fun to mess with, and since a good portion of them had picked up Terran. Admittedly, Jon did enjoy spending time with his own people, even if it was a big mess of "My lord" and "Prince El" every time they spoke.  


They arrived on Krypton after just under two weeks of travel, and by the time they landed on the surface, Jon had prepared himself for what was to come. He and Roy packed their things and then departed from the space ship.

"The guards and such will likely question your presence, and only a few people here know Terran," Jon told him as they walked. "Namely my family and their guards."

Jon's own guards were trailing not far away, while Roy walked right beside him, looking around the bleak gray landscape.  


"You grew up here?" He asked, his voice sounding distorted in this atmosphere.

"Roy, the landscape isn't even the worst part," Jon said with a chuckle, looking over at him.

The ginger had his hair pulled up into a messy bun, and he was wearing his military armor, his bow and quiver slung over one shoulder.

"Man, Damian wasn't joking, was he?"

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Does he joke often? I mean, I've only lived with him what, four months and I've only heard him make one or two jokes."

"No, not really," Roy said with a chuckle.

People were staring at them as they walked to the castle, no one was trying to stop their Prince, who had, for once, worn his Kryptonian royal robes. He figured his Father would probably appreciate that.  


"Jon-El, is that you!"  


Jon stopped at the voice, shooting Roy an annoyed look and then turning. Walking towards them was a tall muscular man, his black cut short and military. He was wearing black and red armor, tight against his body, but still very flexible, and a short sword was attached to his belt.  


"Kon-El," Jon greeted, bowing slightly.

"Welcome home, brother," Kon said, smiling and walking over, pulling Jon into a hug. "It's so good to have you back."

Jon didn't respond, just stiffly hugged his brother.

"And who is this?" Kon asked, pulling back and looking at Roy, who had a very perplexed look.

"Ah. Terran, Brother, he doesn't know our language," Jon said, still speaking the Earth language.  


Kon shot Jon a disdainful look, but kept quiet.

"This is Commander Roy Harper. Roy, High Prince Kon-El."

"Prince El," Roy said, bowing, and staying there for a moment.

"Does their emperor think one so weak could offer you protection against Kryptonians?" Kon asked, not making a single effort to speak in Terran.

Jon gave a condescending hum. "Believe it or not, brother. Roy is one of the best soldiers I have ever seen. He can, and has, bested my own guards. But he is not here for my protection."

Jon turned and started walking away, giving a small signal to Roy as he went.

"Then what is he here for, your amusement and pleasure?" Kon asked, this time in Terran.

Jon heard Roy open his mouth to speak and just shook his head. "He is not worth your effort, Roy," he said softly.

"Father's not in the castle. He's visiting grandfather."

Jon froze, turning slowly to look at Kon.

"Jor-El? Why?"

"Because unlike some of us, he respects the man."

Jon grit his teeth. "You know damn well why I dislike that man," he hissed.

Kon smiled slightly, walking closer. He was just an inch taller than Jon, and he hated it.

"Well it appears that grandfather was right, in the end, wasn't he?"

Jon was throwing a punch before he even realized it. An arm quickly wrapped around his, yanking him back.

"No, Jon. Don't, you're not here to start fights," Roy said softly, right behind Jon.

Kon started laughing. "Ah. I see. He's your handler!"

"Kon, crawl into a hole and die," Jon spat. He spun on his heel and stalked away, ignoring Kon as his brother called after him.

Roy didn't speak as Jon walked into the castle, leading him through the white marble halls, and then to his childhood bedroom, where his bag had already been left.  


"No offense, Jon, but Kon-El seems a bit like a dick," Roy said after a moment of looking around the boring room.

"None taken, Roy. He is."  


"Do you mind my asking about your grandfather?"

"I do."

Roy nodded, staying by the door as Jon sat on the bed with a sigh.

"Not even Damian knows about my grandfather," Jon said softly.

Jor-El was the root of Jon's family drama. You would think, in a society where children were practically cloned, more than anything, that people wouldn't care about sexuality. But no. Jor-El is old fashioned, he believes the ectogenesis process should have been destroyed long ago, and only natural birth should be allowed. Which means that someone like Jon, who isn't attracted to females…. Well let's just say Jor doesn't approve or accept Jon.

After a little bit, they left and Jon gave Roy a brief tour before finding out where Roy was to be staying. And then surprisingly a servant appeared in front of them.

"Prince El," she said with a bow. "Your father has requested you come to his office."

"Okay, thank you, I'll be there shortly."

She nodded and disappeared again. Jon turned and walked until he found Kal's office, knocking on the door.

"Come in!"

Jon pushed it open, motioning for Roy to stay outside, not knowing what would happen inside. He closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk Kal was sitting behind. Kal immediately jumped up, stepping around it and pulling Jon into a big hug.

"Welcome home, Jon," he said with a smile.

"Thank you, father," Jon responded, smiling back, despite the fact that his home was in a different Galaxy, undoubtedly trying to get himself killed at the moment.

Kon was stood to one side, arms crossed as he gave Jon a glare over Kal's back.

"You are looking well…"

"What did you expect father? Me to return malnourished and beaten?"

He clearly had struck a cord there. Kal gave him a sharp look, and he raised an eyebrow in response.

"Can we not fight about this right now? We're here to celebrate your brother. Not fight about your poor choices in a lover."

"At least I love him," Jon snapped back quickly. "Unlike whatever poor fool Jor harassed into marrying Kon."

"Jon!" Kal exclaimed in horror, throwing out an arm to stop Kon, who rushed forwards.

"You little-" Kon stopped, getting cut off as he smacked into Kal's arm.

Jon sent them the bitchiest look he could muster.

"My apologies, father, that was cruel of me," he said, despite the blatant hate.

"I know you and your grandfather do not get along, but I expect you to respect him," Kal reprimanded. "And I expect you to show your brother the same respect."

"Don't get your hopes too high, Father," Kon sneered. "Jon has always been a disrespectful little brat, and now he's gotten used to getting whatever he wants."

"No, Kon-El, actually I've gotten used to people who actually care about me and recognize my value."

Kon scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please, he doesn't actually care for you. He wants you to have as a trophy, a mere decoration for his throne room."

"If he really wanted that, would he have hand selected a battalion of soldiers for me to lead?" Jon turned a harsh gaze to Kon. "Would he make me a general, and go through the effort of convincing father to let him marry me?"

Kon opened his mouth to respond, but Jon quickly cut him off.

"No, Kon-El. If I was merely a prize as you suggest, he wouldn't care about my wishes and opinions. I have given him more advice on ruling his kingdom than his own advisors. So next time you think to insult my Fiance, keep it to yourself, before I ram my  _ fist  _ down your  _ throat, _ " he snarled, taking a step forward.

Kon took one back, eyes narrowing. Jon immediately recoiled when a harsh slap hit his face. His wide eyes snapped to Kal in shock, the man looked pissed but not surprised. Jon grit his teeth.

"Do not touch me again," he hissed, glaring at the emperor.

"This behavior is not acceptable, Jon-El, and I will not tolerate it!"

"Fuck you! You've always sided with him, and then babied me the second his back was turned!"

They both blinked, and then exchanged a look

"Excuse me?" Kon asked, clearly confused.

"I'm so sick of this! I refuse to bend over and accept this! Kon, I've never wanted to rule, I never  _ ever  _ even thought about a mutiny. You have been ceaseless in your torment of me for no damn reason. Father, you are a two-faced wretch, you always have been. One moment you are agreeing with Jor that I am disgusting and foolish, and the next you're telling me to marry someone I love. And  _ then _ you turn around and refuse me the right of marrying the man I've fallen for, because it doesn't convenience you. Now I am content to pretend that this family is perfect and amazing for the media, but I will not turn a blind eye any longer," Jon all but yelled at them.

"I will not allow you to treat me like this any longer! You do not deserve respect as an authority if you refuse to even respect me as a person, let alone your own child and brother! I do not ask for much. I keep my mouth shut and my head down. I've allowed Jor to scream and mock and put me down, but no longer. I will not tolerate this."

Both Kon and Kal stared at him in dumbfounded silence, and he knew why. Never before had he so blatantly called them out and stood up for himself before. Maybe he was getting too used to life with Damian. They were used to him just taking whatever they threw at him, so this was like a physical slap to the face to them.

"If you need me," Jon forced out. "I'll be in my room."

He bowed and then spun on his heel, stalking out, slamming the doors shut behind him.

"What happened?!"  


Jon glanced down to see Roy running to catch up with the Prince. He looked confused and concerned.

"I may have just made things worse for Damian," Jon said with a shrug. "But I do not think he will be terribly mad about it."

"I could tell you were yelling, but I couldn't understand it," Roy said, eyes scanning Jon's face as they walked.

"That's perfectly okay."

"Jon. You need to tell me what's going on. I can't protect you if I don't know what you just did and if it's going to put you in danger."

"I stood up for myself, and informed my father that I would no longer allow them to treat me as they have. Either they will adapt, or there will be consequences for my actions."

"Jesus, Jon-" Roy sighed, rubbing his nose. "I'm staying with you tonight, just to be careful."

"Whatever," Jon answered with a shrug.

That night he did not attend dinner with his family. The next day, he skillfully avoided them by leaving and going to visit his childhood friends, Roy accompanying him as his silent shadow, observing but never commenting unless asked to. In the evening, however, Kal caught Jon before he could disappear into his room.

"I would like you to attend dinner tonight," the emperor said gently, offering his son a soft smile.

Jon gave him a wary look.

"Why?"

"Because you've been gone from Krypton for months, Jon. Your grandparents would like to see you, and you've yet to meet Kon's betrothed."

Jon looked away, considering his options. "Does Jor know about Damian?"

"I haven't told him yet. And I do not believe Kon has."

"Fine. But if he starts tearing at me, I'm leaving."

"I understand. Thank you," Kal said with a smile. Then he frowned as he noticed something. "What's this?"

He reached forwards and gently grabbed Jon's left hand, holding it up so he could see the ring.

"Oh, this is very pretty," he said with a hum.

"Thank you, it was a gift from Damian."

Kal's face dropped slightly at that as he examined the metal. "You didn't used to like jewelry."

"Well, these have emotional value."

"I suppose they do. Do they have any other meaning?"

"No," Jon lied easily. "Just decoration, I suppose. Damian does have a strong appreciation for such things."

"Indeed. Go get changed for dinner please, and wear something. . . Kryptonian."

In that moment, Jon knew what he was wearing.

"Yes Father," Jon said with a sweet smile.

Kal nodded and patted his face lightly. "Tomorrow, we need to talk. Okay? Just you and I."

"Okay."

Kal smiled once more and then turned and walked away. Jon sighed and looked at Roy, who had been standing to the side, silent. Roy just arched an eyebrow, and then followed when Jon continued to his room. While Jon changed, Roy stood guard outside. Jon changed into the very first outfit Damian had ever given him, a blue and gray tunic with see through sleeves, left slightly unbuttoned to show off his neck and collarbones. The whole thing was designed just to show off his body. And he gladly wore it as such.

The moment he walked into the dining hall and met eyes with Kal, he knew he had achieved his goal. He had successfully annoyed his father. Kal clenched his jaw and looked down at his glass silently. Jon just motioned for Roy to stay nearby and walked to the empty seat on Kal's left, next to his grandmother. He took a breath and turned to her with a smile.

"Hello, grandmother!"

"Jon! Good to see you," Lara-El answered with a bright smile. The elderly woman reached out and gently touched his cheek.

"Yes, it has been a while," Jor-El commented, bitterness already lacing his voice.

"Well, I've been a little held up," Jon told him, smiling politely.

The doors opened to let in Kon and a beautiful blonde haired woman. She was curvy and walked gracefully, holding onto Kon's arm and giggling at something he had said. Objectively, she was beautiful, but Jon felt nothing but mild contempt. She looked at Jon and immediately looked shocked.

"Oh!" She exclaimed softly, eyes wide.

"Ah, Lin, may I introduce my youngest son, Jon-El," Kal said with a smile, standing and motioning to Jon. "Jon, this is Lin-Zod, Kon's bride to be."

"Pleasure to meet you," Jon told her with a smile, standing and bowing.

"And you, Prince El!" She curtsied, holding up one edge of her skirt as she did so.

They sat and servants quickly placed plates of food in front of them. They had just started eating when Jor-El opened his mouth and started issues.

"So, Jon, who is the redhead behind you?"

Jon glanced behind him at Roy, who was still armed, hands clasped in front of him, watching the room, relaxed but aware of his surroundings.

"Commander Harper," he responded easily, focusing on his plate.

"Why did they need to send a human guard with you?" Jor asked, disgust plain in his voice.

"He's here to observe, grandfather. Emperor Al Ghul wanted someone to see what Krypton was like, and he trusts Commander Harper. He's not really here for my protection."

Jor hummed and Jon shoved some more food into his mouth before Jor could say anything that would piss him off.

"Now this Emperor Al Ghul," Jor started.

"Father-" Kal quickly tried to interrupt, sending Jon a preemptive scolding look.

"No, I want to know. What made you decide to move to Earth? Isn't Ra's-"

"Ra's isn't the Emperor anymore, grandfather."

"Oh? Who is? That one girl? What was her name, Maya?"

"Mara, and she's dead, grandfather," Jon said with another sigh, gripping his fork tightly.

"Oh. . . Then?"

"It's Damian," Jon said tensely. "Damian Al Ghul is the Emperor. He defeated Ra's in ritual combat and took the throne a few months ago."

"Oh. Is that how things are done over there?"

"Sometimes."

Silence fell, and Jon hoped maybe that was the end of it. He continued eating, and the others started chatting. The second course was brought out, and Jon had been talking lightly with Lin, finding out about her family and past. He was almost done eating when things got bad.

"So, Jon, when are you going to be getting married? There better not be anyone on that damn planet…."

Jon looked up, making eye contact with Kon, whose lips curled up into a smirk.

"Kon, no," Kal said, glaring at his son.

"Actually, grandfather-"

"No!" Jon exclaimed, glaring at him.

"-Someone has asked for Jon's hand in marriage."

Jon grit his teeth, and decided in that moment to stab Kon the next opportunity he got.

"Oh?! Really, who?" Lara asked, looking at Jon with a huge smile.

Jon didn't answer, he just gripped the arms of his chair as both rage and fear ran through him.

"Jon?" Lara asked, clearly confused now.  


"Jon."

He glanced over and saw anger starting to form on Jor's face. He had one opportunity to lie, and this was it. Kathy, he could say Kathy. Unfortunately, Jor wasn't stupid.

"It's a man isn't it?"

"You know what? Yeah. It is," Jon snarled, looking over at Jor fully. "It's Damian Al Ghul."

Silence fell over the room.  


"Prince El?" Roy said softly, a question in just those words alone.

Jon held a single hand up as a signal to stay put. Jor grit his teeth and put down his utensils.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No. I am not. He fully intends to marry me."

Jor turned to Kal. "And you've agreed to this?"

There was a pause. "I'm planning to," Kal said softly.

"Are you- goddamn it Kal!" Jor exclaimed, standing. "You're going to let him disgrace your bloodline like this?!"

Deep breaths, Jon. Deep breaths.

"Father," Kal said softly, clearly trying not to start a fight.

"No! I will not allow this-"

"Good thing it's not up to you, then huh?!" Jon shouted back, shoving his own chair back as he stood.

"Excuse you?" Jor asked, looking at his grandson.

"It's not up to you who I love and who I marry, Jor. It's not even up to Kal. I will marry Damian, without your approval, and without his if necessary. I love him and I fully intend to spend whatever time I have left with him."

Jor laughed. "He's a cruel man, Jon. He has fooled you into thinking he cares for you, apparently."

"Wrong," Jon snarled. "He loves me. And I hope you die bitter with the knowledge that I am marrying a  _ man _ and not some noblewoman just to please you, you old wretch."

Jor let out a noise and lunged around the table, towards Jon. Before he even fully registered what was going on, Jon was yanked out of the way, and Roy was stood between him and Jor-El, his huge bow pulled back to full draw, a silver arrow glinting dangerously.

"Are you okay, Prince El?" He asked softly, not taking his eyes off Jor.

The entire family gasped in alarm and jumped up, except Kal, who just put his head in his hands, and Lin, who was watching them in fear.

"I'm fine, Roy, thank you," Jon answered in Terran, glaring at Jor past Roy.

"What are your orders, my lord?"

"Hold."

Jon stayed safely behind Roy, but readdressed his grandfather.

"For nearly eighteen years I have listened to your hatred and kept my mouth shut, but no longer. I do not have to accept this, and I will not. You do not have to like my choices, you do not have to like Damian. But I expect you to tolerate it and keep your damn mouth shut, because I refuse to allow you to control my life any longer. You do not get to choose who I love, and you can not stop me either. You will never  _ ever  _ touch me again, you've already done so much damage to my person, and I will not bow my head and tolerate it anymore."

He turned and walked away, and Roy, walking backwards, followed until they were at the door, and only then he released his bow and caught up with Jon easily.

"So what did I just get myself caught in the middle of?"

"My family drama. I'm sorry, I wish you wouldn't have gotten involved."

Roy didn't comment, but Jon knew he was curious.

"My grandfather does not approve of me being sexually attracted to only men."

"Oh. You should've told me he was a homophobic dick and I would've put my arrow through his foot."

Jon chuckled a bit, looking over. "Thank you, Roy, but I've gotten you in enough trouble as is."

"My job is to protect you, and as far as I'm concerned, that includes emotionally. So if I have to put an arrow in a few nobles to do that, I will happily do so."

Jon shook his head, heading to his room and sitting on the bed, preparing himself for a week of misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, so you all finally know what I've known for weeks.
> 
> Being an asshole runs in the family. Jor's a dick, Kal's a two-faced pushover, and Kon's just an asshole. Lara however is a sweetheart and 👏🏻we👏🏻 Stan 👏🏻. Lin I just made up, btw. Because the only kryptonian females I know of are related to the Kent's in one way or another....
> 
> But Anyway! I'm so proud of baby Jon for standing up for himself *proud tear*. Damian really had changed him. They're changing each other-
> 
> See you guys next week!


	9. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter, but don't worry, I'll make it up next week!
> 
> Enjoy!

Damian hummed as he watched the small crowd march past him, people of all shapes, sizes, and ages. They all walked with their heads bowed, shoulders hunched, looking dejected and forlorn.  


They had just made the biggest raid in months, finding and successfully subduing a rebel hideout before they knew it was coming. This meant they had been able to catch more rebels then ever, along with their various servants- or no. Not servants…. Cohorts, maybe? Like servants, but free to come and go as they please. Employees. They had confiscated considerable resources and weapons, which meant the rebels would be seriously set back. They were just now getting reports, but so far it seemed as though the rebels themselves had been crushed to just a handful of remaining fighters. Most of these poor people wouldn't be dealt with too harshly, sent to work the fields and in construction labor. Some of the major players, on the other hand. . . Well, that would remain to be seen. A young girl walking past caught his eye.

"Jason, bring me her," he said softly, pointing.

The general walked past him and into the crowd, stopping the procession. He gently herded the girl back toward Damian. She saw him, dressed in his battle armor, blood smeared on his armor and mask and cried out in alarm, turning to run away, only bumping into Jason instead. Damian sighed and reached up, pulling off his mask and then his gloves, bending slightly.

"It's okay, my dear," he said softly. "Come here, I won't hurt you."

She immediately started crying, hiccuping as Jason pushed her forwards until she was stood right in front of him. She could only be about thirteen, and wrapped her arms around herself tightly, focusing on the floor.

"Can I ask you some questions?" He asked, a gentleness he had never known before Jon creeping into his voice.

"Mom says I shouldn't tell you anything," she said with a headshake.

"It's okay," Damian told her gently. "I'll find out one way or another. If you help me, less people will get hurt."

She flinched away and Damian almost felt bad for lying to her and intimidating her like that. She looked down at Malika, who was laying beside Damian, watching through slitted eyes. He had not intended to bring the jaguar with him, but she simply refused to let him leave without her, so she came on his massive hunt for Hal Jordan.

"Do you know Hal Jordan? He used to be a Green Lantern."

She was silent. Damian sighed, reaching forwards, tilting her head up. He wasn't even phased by her solid green eyes.

"What is your name?"

"Mar'i."

"Okay, Mar'i. I'm only going to ask once more. Do you know Hal Jordan?"

She hesitated, and then nodded.  


"Very good. And Bruce Wayne?"

Another nod.

"Do you know where they went? We know they were here and escaped just before I- we got here."

She stared at him for a moment and then shook her head.

"Mar'i. Do not lie to me."

"I just know that dad helped them get away," she said softly.

"Would your dad know where to find them?"

Seeming to realize what she had just done, she burst out in tears and buried her face into her hands. Damian sighed and looked up at Jason.

"Get Kathy."

The general disappeared, and Damian straightened, watching as people stared at him as they passed, they had almost finished collecting everyone by this point, and Damian was eager to get back on the road, chasing Hal. He still enjoyed it, the thrill of the hunt, finding his target and following them until they exhausted themselves and eventually just collapsed. It brought him a sense of satisfaction in the end, something he couldn't quite describe. Plus it had been a while since he had actually gotten to be in the field.

"I'm here, my liege."

Damian glanced behind him to see Kathy and Jason walking up. Kathy's battle armor was interesting. Like Jason and Roy she had significantly veered from the greens and golds of the empire, and shot for pink and purple, lacing and accenting the black sections of body armor. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she had no facial covering of any kind.

"This girl has information. Gently find out what she's hiding from me."

Kathy nodded and marched right up to the poor child. She grabbed her arm and then put a hand on her head, closing her eyes. The girl gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, body going stiff. Damian looked down as Malika snarled, giving him a displeased stare.

"What?" He asked her, stepping back to give Kathy room to work. She, obviously, didn't answer.

Jason started reporting all the details of the raid to him, reading off a datapad, but Damian ignored him for the most part, knowing he'd hear all this again. It had been a week and a half since Jon left. A week since Damian had left the castle and begun his pursuit of his target. This was the second time Hal Jordan had slipped through his fingers in that week, and it was really starting to piss Damian off. Well, he was already pissed off. He had yet to hear from Jon, and Jason had yet to hear from Roy, which likely meant they had yet to arrive on Krypton.  


"Da- My liege," Kathy said, her eyes still closed.

"Yes?"

"This girl is the daughter of Koriand'r and Dick Grayson."

Oh now that changes things.

"Where is Grayson?"

Kathy went silent for a minute, and then opened her eyes, looking at Jason for a moment.

"I'll go get him," Jason said with a wicked smile and turned, walking away, snapping to some soldiers to get them to follow.

"Find out what she knows about Hal and Bruce."

"I'm trying," Kathy bit out, closing her eyes and focusing again.

Twenty excruciating minutes later, she dropped her hand and stepped back, and Mari crumpled to the floor, crying again.

"I know where they are going."

"Good."

Damian ordered some guards to take Mari and keep her subdued, she would likely be helpful later, for whatever reason. He turned and walked back to his command tent, Kathy trailing after him. He sat at the small metal desk there, and then motioned for Kathy to begin speaking.

"She knows the majority of the rebel hideouts, all the ones we've abolished and then some. The nearest one from here is in Central City, and it makes the most sense for them to be heading there," Kathy explained.

"Alright. We will head there after Jason returns. Where did you send him anyway?"

"There's a secret room in the safehouse, Dick Grayson was hiding there last Mari knew."

Damian nodded and waved her away, so she disappeared from the tent, leaving him in silence.

He spent the rest of the evening looking over information, estimates of supplies gathered, losses, those sorts of things. And then he was brought a data chip that contained all of their server information. Up until now, the rebels had managed to delete the files before his people could get to them. It was interesting, reading their correspondence, their plans, and their logs. He had been hoping to find a list of members or contacts, but it appeared they weren't dumb enough to leave something like that lying around. He'd have his tech savvy people look at it closer when they got back.

Jason returned late that night. Damian had just fallen asleep, or at least it felt that way, when a guard burst into his tent.

"Emperor Al Ghul!"

Damian jolted awake, shooting up, a blade already pulled, he glared at the guard.

"What?!"

"General Todd has returned! With Richard Grayson!"

Damian leapt out of bed, not bothering to change. He had learned long ago to wear actual clothing to bed while he was out in the field. You never knew what had happened. He didn't put boots on, just ran, barefoot, across the cement sidewalks, the guard running in front of him, leading the way. They burst into a small building, where a group of people were huddled. In the middle of the room was a figure, tied to a metal post. Jason stepped out in front of Damian.

"My lord. He's refused to speak to anyone. Not even me. Kathy can't even get any information out of him."

Damian just hummed, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes. Malika, who had followed him in confusion, snarled and walked over, sniffing Grayson. The rebel jerked in alarm, trying to pull away.

"Clear the room, Jason. I only want my guards."

"Damian!" Jason protested.

"Jason."

The general glared back, but nodded, turning and barking orders. Soon everyone cleared out, just Damian's Kryptonian guard stood by the doors. Damian sighed, reaching up and running a hand through his silky black hair, pushing the slightly greasy strands back out of his face. Then he walked over, crouching in front of Richard. The rebel barely lifted his head to look at Damian.

"Your daughter is safe," Damian said softly. "She's with the others that we captured. She will most likely be sent to work on a farm, an orchard or something like that."

Dick let out a small sigh, his blue eyes dropping again. "Thank you," he breathed out.

Damian just hummed in response, straightening. He gently rubbed Malika's head.

"Where is our father," Damian asked, looking up at Dick again.

"He's not your father," Dick bit out, looking up, his eyes a mix of rage and fear.

"You're right," Damian said with a chuckle. "But I have his genes so the world tells me he is."

"He's gone, Damian. He is going to spend his whole life running from you."

"Mmm, don't be so hopeful," Damian shot back. "Truthfully I'm less interested in Bruce then Hal Jordan."

"Why? Because he stabbed one of your guards?"

Damian chuckled. "Not a guard. My fiance."

Dick's eyes went wide, his mouth falling open. Damian chuckled again, pulling his hair over his shoulder and combing his fingers through it.

"You're marrying a Kryptonian?"

"I intend to, assuming we can ever convince his father to relent. It's not so easy, marrying the Prince of another empire."

Dick just gave a small laugh, looking at the floor again.

"You know, when Bruce found out about you," Dick started. "He never really believed Talia, but he told us and I wanted to believe it. I wanted to find you and help you. I wanted another little brother."

Damian sighed and shook his head. "To what end? To make me run around the country, hiding in holes and endangering those closest to me? Why can you rebels not see that I am trying to help the planet. Crime has been reduced drastically, illegal drug sales have been nearly erased, healthcare is at its best, and people no longer have to fight for the right to get education. Cost of living has declined and billionaires like the Wayne family are non-existent. The planet is thriving and the taxes on oil mining has caused it to come to a near stop. We've funded and enacted greener energy, and stopped harmful deforestation.

"The path the human race was on before would have likely destroyed our world. Many countries suffered from extreme poverty, while a select class of people had more money than they could ever logically spend, and only charged the poor more for their basic needs like housing and medical supplies. On top of all this, the planet was constantly at war, and threats of all out nuclear war have been going around since the 1950's, and the different countries were only building bigger armies to posture and show off to their enemies. So why, pray tell, does your Justice League want to try so hard to unseat my family from power?"

"It's oppression!" Dick said, even though uncertainty was flickering in his eyes. "Your family are murderers!"

"So giving murderers and rapists the punishment they deserve makes me a bad person? Why, then, has the crime rate dropped so severely. And you call it oppression, but I've read the surveys and papers and articles. People are happier now than they were 100 years ago. Society has evolved, Richard, why can you not grow with it?"

Dick swallowed, and then spoke softly, almost whispering. "You brainwashed Roy-"

Damian raised an eyebrow. "His adoptive father was nearly abusive, and when Roy struggled with addiction, the man threw him out instead of helping him. He came to us of his own discretion and has become like family to us."

"You've killed so many of my friends."

"And you've killed so many of my good soldiers. Which I do believe, makes us on even ground."

Dick looked like he was about to start crying, he bowed his head, chin against his chest.

"What are you gonna do with dad and Hal?"

"Father will likely stand trial for his crimes, and be given a swift and painless death, more than he deserves, but I suppose I've gone soft, haven't I? Hal Jordan, however. . . Well, that's out of my hands, he will be sent to Emperor El for him to do as he pleases with the man who tried to murder his son."

Dick was silent for a moment, breathing even. "You almost killed me, nearly a year ago."

"I remember. You had just tried to put a knife through my brain, so I do think I was only fair."

"What are you going to do if I don't tell you what you want to know?"

Damian sighed, stepping forwards and lifting Dick's head, looking into the older man's blue eyes.  


"I could torture you, I suppose, but that won't really give me the information I need, will it?"

Dick just shook his head.  


"I could let Commander Branden tear your brain apart, piece by piece until she knows everything we could ever need."

His eyes went wide at that.

"But, truthfully. I don't need to know. I know that they are heading towards Central City, to your hideout in the old STAR Labs facility."

"How-" Dick gasped out before he thought better of it.

"Your daughter told me. Or rather, Kathy. She will be dealing with quite a bit of guilt for a while, I suspect."

"What did you do?!"

Damian shrugged, stepping back and beginning to pace.

"She'll be okay, perfectly safe, remember?"

"Oh god. Mar'i."

There was a knock on the door and then it opened, Jason poked his head in.

"Hey, Roy just called and told me they made it to Krypton okay," he spoke softly, glancing between Damian and Dick.

"Thank you, Jason."

"Is everything…"

"It's fine. You may go rest, we'll be leaving in the morning."

"What are you doing with him."

"Jason." Damian shot him a look.

"Right," Jason sighed out, before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Damian just shook his head and turned back to Dick, who seemed interested.

"You don't seem like the type to let people question you like that," he remarked.

"Jason's practically my brother, he gets away with much more than anyone else would ever be allowed to."

"I guess that's another thing we have in common. He used to be my little brother. . ."

Damian held back his biting comment, just turned and paced lightly. Dick was leaning back against the pole he was tied to, watching his every move like he was a pacing lion, preparing to attack.

"What's going to happen to me."

"Think logically, Grayson. What is happening to Father?"

"I don't want to die."

"You should have defected after you were old enough to understand this mess," Damian grumbled, shaking his head.

"I don't know if I believe in Bruce's war anymore."

Damian stopped pacing, looking up.  


"So many people have died, and you're right. Maybe there's not as much freedom as there used to be, but there's safety and happiness, and isn't that more important?"

Dick sighed and bowed his head again.

"Do with me what you will, Emperor Al Ghul. But I can not in my right mind assist in the capture of my father."

Damian nodded slightly. "I expect I'll be seeing you again soon."

He started walking towards the door. Malika followed.

"Damian-"

He paused and looked back at Dick, eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry about your fiance. I hope he's okay."

Damian just nodded. "He's fine."

And then he left, ordering guards to stay and watch the prisoner carefully.

The next day they moved out, heading towards Central City. Jason was oddly silent and spent most of his time with his soldiers, not really talking. When they stopped for the evening, Damian sent for him.

"Yes, My liege?" Jason asked as he walked into the tent Damian was staying in.

Damian glanced up from the notebook he was writing in, his own personal logs, a diary almost. He set down his pen and closed the book.

"What's wrong?" He asked gently.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been. . . Pensive today."

Jason sighed, looking at the floor for a moment. Damian waited patiently.

"Being around Dick is bringing up some weird feelings. That's all."

"Elaborate."

"It's almost guilt, I suppose. Dick and I had our bad times, but he was still my brother, Bruce was still my dad, and I betrayed them both. I don't regret it. You've given me so much, I've met Roy because of you, but it's still. . . I wonder, had things been different, would I still be here?"

"Had the Joker not killed you, I highly doubt it," Damian confessed, motioning to the cot beside him. "I did not know you before, but your death is what brought you to us. You would've most likely become another one of Father's soldiers."

"Damian. . . Sometimes I wonder if I would be happier here or with Bruce." Jason came and sat beside him, staring at the floor.

He nodded in understanding, reaching over to touch his brother's shoulder.  


"I used to wonder that too. We can't change it though, we are who we are now. And you know as well as I do, Bruce could never accept us now."

Jason nodded with a sigh. "Oh well. I have Roy now, I couldn't leave him. He has trouble with everything…"

"I know. I've put him through that, and as necessary as it was, it was cruel."

Jason just shrugged, then cleared his throat. "So, Dick. How'd that talk go?"

"It was fine. . . I think he's broken, finally. He told me he wasn't sure he believed in Bruce's war anymore."

Jason's eyebrow shot up. "What are you going to do with him?"

"I've yet to decide. What do you recommend?"

Silence for a few minutes. "Legally you have to deal with him as you would any other rebels. Which means trial and execution. But of course you are Emperor and can do whatever you want."

Damian hummed and nodded. "Oh well, I have time, right? I'll figure it out. Did you talk to Roy again today?"

"No, he's been pretty quiet for a while. But he should be calling tomorrow."

"Okay. Go rest, I need you to be at full strength this week," Damian said, motioning towards the exit.

Jason just hummed and stood, he bowed lightly to Damian before slipping out the exit of the tent. Damian sighed and picked up his notebook again, finishing his entry before laying down, turning off the lantern beside his cot. He laid in darkness for a while. The cot was uncomfortable, and cold. He missed his luxurious bed, soft blankets and his fiance. . . Okay mostly his fiance, which was still an odd sentiment for him. He longed for Jon, for his soft touches and warm embraces, for his odd accent and caring words, and for his company and wisdom. Damian sighed, rolling onto his side and staring into the darkness of his tent, letting his mind drift. He wasn't the type to really think about the future, so he instead reflected on their past, where they had been, things they had done.

Admittedly, he probably shouldn't have done that, because now all he wanted was Jon on him, hands freely touching his naked body. Damian groaned in annoyance, shifting once more and forcing his mind onto more military matters, and less sexual ones. He could wait. It was just three more weeks, and then he could have Jon however he wanted him.

He just really needs a long hot bath, and a decent night's rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of notes for the life of me.... 
> 
> Damian's just so so tired.  
> This poor man will probably have white hairs by 30.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	10. The Fall of the Bat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Some of ya done been knew about this chapter.  
> Have FUN!
> 
> (Also if anyone notices anything weird, like missing dialogue, please tell me, my laptop decided it hates me-)

"Fuck! Bruce go!"

Damian could hear the alarms, the yelling, the panic. And it made him smile.

They had reached the old abandoned STAR Labs that morning, and begun the process of surrounding and breaching the building. Years ago the STAR laboratory had been shut down for both safety code violations and for illegal experimentation on metahumans. They had never gotten restarted, due to the other, more advanced research laboratories around the planet. The building had fallen into the hands of one Bartholomew Allen, who had been, before his death, a rebel and had given the building to the Justice League as a hideout.

Currently Damian was just a doorway away from Bruce and Hal Jordan. He had seen Hal disappear through it not ten second ago. He walked over and grabbed the door, pushing on it, only to find it locked. So he stepped back, brought up his foot, and nailed the door hard, the door creaked but didn't budge. On a second kick, the lock snapped and the door flew open. Damian walked through, Jason and the Kryptonian captain, Lor-Zod, followed him. Their other soldiers were in charge of making sure they didn't slip through an outside door and escape.

They entered into a hallway, and Damian could just see someone disappearing around the edge of it, he broke into a run, giving chase. It didn't take him much to catch up, pinning them in a stairwell. Lor-Zod easily jumped up to the next landing, blocking them from going higher. Bruce sighed and turned to Damian, he looked weak and tired, his face was pale and gaunt, not yet fully recovered from his imprisonment. He was armed with only a set of daggers, both in his hands. Hal was still as healthy as could be, but likely out of practice fighting without the benefit of his Lantern abilities. He too turned, glaring hatefully at Damian. He had a sword in one hand, and a Glock strapped to his thigh. Jason immediately aimed his own handgun at the ex-Lantern.

"Father," Damian greeted, resting his hands on his hips.

"Damian," Bruce responded, his eyes barely flickering over Damian before going to Jason. "Jay-lad…"

"Shut up, old man," Jason hissed out, his eyes not leaving Hal.

Damian reached up, taking off his black mask, letting it dangle around his neck. His hair swished behind him in a high ponytail, and he looked at his father, head tilted. Then he turned his gaze to Hal.

"Hal Jordan, you are under arrest for crimes against the state, and for the attempted murder of Prince Jon-El of Krypton, as well as treason against the Green Lantern corps."

Hal scoffed, bringing up his gun and aiming it right at Damian's head. "I'll die first, you psychopath."

"Sociopath actually, and unfortunately, as much as I would enjoy that, we have bigger plans for you."

There was the soft click of Jason's safety disengaging. Damian looked back to Bruce.

"Is it really worth running anymore, Father?"

"Will you leave the others if I come with you?"

Damian laughed coldly, walking closer. "You old fool. They are as much of criminals as you are, even if they were fooled into this life. If you really had cared about them, you should've disappeared and stopped fighting me long ago."

Bruce just sighed, hanging his head, leaning an arm against the railing of the stairs.

"Damian, don't get too close," Jason scolded, taking a step forwards and grabbing Damian's shoulder.

"It's fine, Jason. I don't think he has it in him to hurt me. He's too broken."

Bruce looked back up at Damian, and he raised an eyebrow to find his father crying. 

"I'm so sorry, Damian. I failed you," he breathed out. Damian didn't move when Bruce reached out, gently touching his face. "You could've saved us all, if I had just believed Talia and come for you."

Bruce's hand was callused and cold, he gently stroked Damian's cheekbone.

"You've been through so much hardship, you've caused so much suffering, because that's all you've ever known."

"Do not try to get into my psyche, old fool," Damian hissed, but didn't pull away.

"Bruce, what are you doing?" Hal asked, sounding tense.

"It's okay, Hal," Bruce called back, not glancing over, just looking into Damian's green eyes. "I'm sorry, my son."

"I am not your son, and you are not my father," Damian told him bitterly. "If you wanted to be my father, you should have come to Talia and earned her forgiveness, instead of wasting your life trying to fight my grandfather and now me. You were a good soldier once, and now you are weak and worthless."

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. Then, surprising Damian even further, he stepped forwards, his arms slipping around Damian and hugging him. Damian instantly went rigid, and he heard Jason gasp. 

"You can do with me what you will, but I will never stop fighting for the freedom of the world."

"Damian!" He heard Jason yell.

And then he felt a sharp pinching in his ribs, right in the joint of his armor. And then pain burst from that spot. He hissed and immediately head-butted Bruce, causing him to stagger back. Damian stepped back, reaching behind him to feel the dagger now stuck in his back, it wasn't very deep. He didn't have any time to consider this as Bruce was suddenly lunging forwards, swiping at him with the second knife. Jason lunged forwards, grabbing Damian and yanking him out of the way and getting sliced across the cheek instead. Bruce gave a horrified gasp.

"Oh god, Jason!"

A gunshot echoed around the room, and then Jason staggered back as a bullet bit into his shoulder. Then there was a sharp cry and a thump, Damian looked up to see Hal lying against the wall, groaning in pain, Lor-Zod stood with a boot on his chest. Jason put a hand up to his shoulder, looking at the sticky blood that was left on his glove.

"Oh you're going to regret that, old man," Jason snarled in a voice that wasn't Jason's.

Damian instantly recognized the Lazarus rage.

Bruce's eyes widened in horror. "What the hell?!" He exclaimed, stepping back.

Jason shot forwards like a fox hound let off its leash, a knife in his hands as he slashed wildly at Bruce. Bruce just staggered back, throwing his arms up in front of his face as he retreated. Jason viciously cut at any part of Bruce he could reach, slicing his stomach, legs, arms, anything. It occured to Damian that Jason was going to kill Bruce if he could. And he didn't feel inclined to stop him.

"Jason! Jason stop!" Bruce yelped as he received another cut to his stomach.

"He can't hear you, Bruce," Damian hummed, pulling his ponytail over his shoulder and combing his hair with his fingers. "After he died, after you let him be killed, Talia revived him through a Lazarus pit. He's been experiencing pit induced rages ever since. It turns him completely insane, with one goal in mind. I'd like to thank you for leaving the Joker alive though, if Jason hadn't been able to personally deal with him, he would have gone completely insane."

Bruce wasn't able to respond as he tripped on the stairs and stumbled back, falling onto them. Jason lunged on him without hesitation.

"He would barely even recognize me in this state," Damian informed him, walking closer. "He has one goal, and in this moment, that's killing you."

"Damian, please!" Bruce gasped out as Jason continued attacking him.

"Beg for my help," Damian ordered, staring at Bruce in contempt.

Bruce cried out in pain as Jason's dagger went into his stomach.

"Please!" He gasped, raising a hand towards Damian.

"No. Die in suffering, you old fool," Damian told him with a sadistic grin.

"Bruce!" Hal screamed in horror.

Without hesitation, Jason stabbed his knife into Bruce's chest, twisting it as he snarled like an animal. Bruce gave another cry of pain, and stopped fighting. He was laid out on the stairs, Jason kneeling over him, blood already coating the steps and dropping down them in mini waterfalls. Bruce, eyes glazed over in pain, reached up, gently cupping Jason's face.

"Jay," he whimpered, voice shaky.

Damian watched in amazement as Jason blinked, and slowly the rage melted off his face and his eyes, which had been glowing, dimmed significantly.

"Oh god," Jason gasped in a broken voice.

"Jay, I love. . . you. . . son," Bruce forced out, breath coming in harsh gasps. "I. . . Forgive you."

"Oh god! Bruce! Nonono!" Jason cried, pressing his hands to Bruce's chest as he panicked.

Damian raised an eyebrow, this was not the reaction he had expected. He, of course, felt nothing. He had no attachment to Bruce, this meant nothing more to him then the death of any one of the other Justice League members he had personally executed. He was actually quite glad his father was dead, it was one less thorn in his side. Jason looked up at him, teal eyes wide, tears leaking out the edges 

"What have I done?" He whimpered.

"Jason-"

Jason jumped up, staggering back, staring at Bruce's bleeding body. There was grunting and then Hal was running over, falling to a sit on the stairs, taking Jason's spot and pressing a jacket to the wound.

"Bruce. Bruce, come on, stay with me. You do not get to die, dammit!"

Bruce said something Damian didn't catch, and Hal aggressively shook his head.

"No. Shut up. You'll be fine."

Another quiet word or two.

"Fuck you!" Hal yelled, also crying now.

A smile cracked on Bruce's face. "Thank you, Hal," he barely breathed out.

Then his head dropped to one side, his chest stopped moving, and Hal let out a rough scream, clenching Bruce's shirt. Damian looked over when he heard a retching noise and saw Jason leaning on the wall, throwing up. Then he looked up at Lor-Zod, who had an eyebrow raised.

"Do humans usually react like this?"

Damian just sighed. "Restrain Jordan," he ordered, turning and walking over to Jason. He gently grabbed Jason's arms and pulled him away from the pile of vomit.

"Come here, Jason," he said softly, pulling him to the next flight of stairs, and having him sit at the top.

"What have I done," Jason muttered, holding his head in his hands and rocking slightly. 

Damian said beside him and gently put an arm around him, comforting him the best he knew how. 

"You did your duty."

"I killed my father, Damian!" Jason cried in horror, looking up at him.

"I know." Damian raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's not the same for you."

"No it's not. But I do understand, I've been there. Jason, he tried to kill me, they attacked you. You were defending both me and yourself. You did what you had to."

Jason just shook his head and muttered something, covering his face as he cried. Damian sighed and gently squeezed him into a hug, before standing. He turned back to Hal and Lor-Zod. Tears were streaming down Hal's face, and he was gasping for air, his arms twisted and tied behind his back.

"You. . . You monster!"

"Yes, we've established this before," Damian said, unamused.

"You killed him! You fucking maniac, that's your father and you aren't even shedding a tear?!? How many people have you killed? How fucked up are you! And you wonder why we're trying to get rid of you! You're nothing but a psycho totalitarian, who does what he wants and cares nothing for his people!"

Damian just arched an eyebrow. Hal was actually screaming at him, straining against Lor's hold to try to get at him.

"You are going to watch your empire crumble, people will want freedom, sooner or later, and what are you going to do?! Kill everyone until they submit?! I swear to God I should've murdered you years ago-"

"Captain, silence him."

Lor smacked the back of Hal's head and he crumpled.

"Take him outside, put him with Grayson and then send some medics up to retrieve Bruce's body," He ordered, turning back to Jason.

"Yes Emperor Al Ghul."

Lor hoisted Hal over his shoulder and walked away. Damian went over to Jason.

"Todd, let's go."

Jason looked up, sniffing and wiping his eyes. He nodded and stood, allowing Damian to pull him up and start to lead him out. By the time they got outside, he had composed himself, but was very detached. Damian led him to the medics and had them treat his gunshot wound, but he stayed nearby, watching as people passed, having confiscated supplies and files from the building. At one point he saw a few people walk by with a sheet covered body on a stretcher. He made sure to block Jason's view of them. After the medics released Jason, Damian pulled him aside to a more closed off area, where he gently wrapped an arm around his brother.

"What are you thinking?" He asked softly as Jason leaned into him.

"I can't believe I did that. What did I do? How can I live with myself?" Jason muttered. "But there's a part of me that doesn't care. It's almost glad, I think."

Damian hummed softly, gently petting Jason's head like he had seen Roy do in the past.

"I cannot help your guilt, but I can give you a few weeks off to recover."

Jason just swallowed and nodded. Damian let silence fall between them, just silently comforting Jason the best he knew how, which admittedly wasn't that much. He wasn't good with people, that was Jon, there was a reason his fiance was a diplomat, after all. Roy would know how to deal with Jason, he knew all the man's little triggers, he knew the pain he was going through better than most. Why did he let them go to Krypton, again?

After a while, Jason thanked him and then said he wanted to be alone, so Damian went to go get reports from his captains on what had happened. That didn't take very long, and once they had swept through everything , they were ready to move out. So he left a portion of the guards on base in case anyone else showed up and to finish gathering their resources, and then he left with his guards and prisoners and headed back to the capital.

It was a long and tiring flight, especially since every time Hal Jordan saw him, he started screaming curses and profanities at him. Dick was much more subdued, just sat with his head bowed, sullen and quiet. Jason was also very melancholy, mostly just stayed in the cockpit and sometimes would talk quietly with the pilot's. Damian was ready to be home, he was ready for Jon to be home, he was ready to be done with Jordan and be able to marry Jon, and just, move on. Because he was so tired.

  
  


* * *

Jon woke up to the buzzing of an intercom. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, then whined in annoyance. He had been having a very pleasant dream about Damian, and his body had reacted accordingly. Meaning his dick was hard. He sighed as the buzzing continued and rolled out of his bed and stumbled over to the panel, hitting a button.

"What?" He grumbled with a yawn.

"Prince El, we're almost to Earth."

Oh. Thank. God.

"Thank you, captain," Jon mumbled, reaching up to rub his eyes.

He turned off the transmission and then looked down at himself, sighing. Oh well, Damian probably wouldn't mind. He walked to his bathroom, wondering faintly what his fiance was doing as he stripped and stepped back into the shower. The past month had been rough, between his family, not being able to sleep properly because of the difference in the planets, and being away from Damian for that long. . . He was ready to be back home. He let the hot water roll over his body, quickly washing his hair and body and then dealing with his throbbing cock. The water snapped off just a few minutes after he came, and he leaned an arm against the wall, watching water drip from his skin.

He stepped out after a moment, going to find some comfortable clothing. The shower had helped wake him up, but he was slightly groggy. Then he worked on packing, collecting what few things he had left out, and putting them up. He knew he had some time until the mess would be open, so he sat on the bed and finished 1984 by George Orwell. It had been a fascinating book, to say the least, human fiction was quite amusing. Once that was finished, he packed it up and left his bag on the bed, walking out to the mess hall, and finding Roy already there. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his vibrant hair tangled up into a bun. He glanced up as Jon approached and just nodded in greeting.

"Morning Roy," Jon said with a chuckle, and got a grunt in response. "Ready to be home?"

"You have no idea. How much has Damian told you?"

Jon raised an eyebrow. "He said they caught Hal, but that was about it. Something about Bruce being killed. We haven't gotten to talk much."

"Yeah. Jason was the one who did it."

"Oh? Oh," Jon said upon the realization that Bruce had once been like Jason's father.

"Yeah. After I get back we're leaving, going on a trip for a few weeks to give ourselves time off."

Jon nodded. "Seems logical."

They went silent as they got their food and then went and sat down, eating quietly. After their breakfast, they had a little bit of time, so they gathered their things and then met on the bridge. They had entered orbit around the planet, and would soon be near the capital. 

"The Emperor requested we stay in orbit for a while, we're apparently taking a prisoner back?" The Captain said, looking at Jon.

He just nodded. "Yes, that seems right."

The Captain just hummed, looking back at a screen.

A shuttle was sent up after a little bit, Hal Jordan and a couple of Kryptonian guards on board. They passed by in the halls, and Hal gave Jon a look of such contempt. Jon just smirked at him, watching as the guards pushed him past. Then he and Roy got aboard and headed back down to Earth. That flight itself was around a half an hour, and it was mostly silent. Jon was fine with that, despite the fact that he was getting jittery. He wanted to get back to Damian, and any further delays would not be taken lightly. The shuttle landed outside the castle, and Jon just swept up his bag and left, power walking away, even as guards yelled to him. He just ignored them and walked up to one of the Kryptonians standing nearby.

"Where is Damian?" He asked, not bothering with formalities.

The guard hesitated, glancing past at Roy.

"Emperor Al Ghul is down in the cell blocks, My lord. He wished for you to wait- Prince El!"

Jon had started walking away, and the guard rushed to follow.

"He didn't want to be interrupted!"

"I don't care," Jon snapped, waving him off.

The guard stopped following, simply because he had too. Jon headed to the castle, and then down the flight of stairs to the cells. He could hear Damian, talking to someone. When he reached the heavy door that blocked the actual cells, there were more guards stood outside. They stood up straighter when they saw Jon.

"Prince El! Emperor Al Ghul does not want interruptions."

"Try to stop me and I will interrupt your blood flow," Jon snarled, stepping closer. 

The poor human guards went pale, but didn't move aside, stepping in front of the door.

"I'm sorry, but Emperor Al Ghul gave us orders. He wanted you to wait for him to be finished."

Jon really did want to strangle them. His hands clenched at his sides, and he watched as fear came over the guards, one of them even looked like he was about to scream. And then he took a deep breath and stepped back.

"Okay. Fine. Tell Emperor Al Ghul that I will be waiting in our rooms."

"Yes, Prince El," the one who had spoken previously squeaked, lip quivering.

Jon turned and stalked away, a black mood falling over him. All he wanted was to see Damian and he was being denied it. But he went back upstairs, finding their room unlocked, he went inside and slammed the door shut behind him. Immediately he was comforted by the familiar smell of their room, by the familiarity of the space. He sighed and dropped his bag on the floor and stalked over, flopping onto the sofa, face down. He laid there for a minute or two before shifting onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Not even Malika was around to comfort him. She often went where Damian went, so there were countless days where he came back to an empty, lonely room.

After wallowing in his misery for a moment, he stood and grabbed his bag, busying himself unpacking and putting his things up. He had read all of the four books he had taken with him, and had even brought back some of his books from Krypton. Those he left out on the table, because he didn't want to mess up Damian's organization. After everything was put up, he went and sat out on the balcony, leaning back in his seat and soaking up the warm sun.

He must've dozed off at some point because he jolted awake to a heavy weight settling in his lap. Jon jerked, grabbing at the weight and sitting up, ready to attack as he pulled his eyes open. Instead he heard a deep chuckle, and realized he was looking at Damian, who was straddling him, a smirk on his beautiful face.

"Hello, beloved."

"Damian!"

Damian was wearing a thin white shirt, see through and showing off all his muscles. Jon's hands slid down his waist, where he had grabbed earlier, to the silky material of his black trousers. Damian's eyes were flickering over Jon's face, then down as far as he could see with his clothing. Then he moved forwards quickly, hands coming around to the back of Jon's neck, one threading up into his hair, and pulled him forwards into a rough kiss, wasting no time to inform Jon how much he had missed him. Jon wholeheartedly agreed to this display, pullin g in Damian's bottom lip, and then pushing his tongue past his lips and teeth. Damian made some type of noise, pushing against Jon as his fingers tugged on his hair.

When they pulled apart, they were both breathing heavy, but smiling. Jon gave a small chuckle, leaning forwards and pecking Damian's lips again lightly.

"Rao, I missed you," Jon murmured, pulling Damian into a hug and nuzzling his neck, breathing in the smell that could only be Damian.

"I missed you too," Damian hummed lightly, his fingers gently carding through Jon's tangled black locks.

They didn't speak for a moment, just embraced. Jon's bad mood had instantly disappeared, and a bubbly joy was overtaking him.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, but I was talking to Grayson."

"Dick?" Jon asked, lightly kissing Damian's neck, tasting the slight tang of sweat.

"Yes. We captured him a few weeks ago. He didn't take Bruce's death well, no one did. But I've been making progress with him."

"What do you mean?" Jon asked as he looped his arms around Damian's hips, pulling him in closer.

He really didn't care what Damian was talking about, he just wanted to make up for lost time.

"He's having doubts about the rebels. I think I can get him to flip and tell me their secrets."

"Oh."

Damian chuckled, pushing on Jon's shoulders until he leaned back, looking up at Damian. Damian smiled at him, gently caressing his cheek.

"You should wear your hair down more," Jon mused out loud, reaching up to run his fingers through it. Today Damian was wearing it in a high ponytail. 

"And why's that?"

"Because you look hot with it down," Jon said with a grin.

Damian laughed, shaking his head. He sat back slightly, but didn't leave Jon's lap.

"So, tell me about your trip?" Damian asked, fingers trailing down Jon's chest.

"I think you should go first, we have a lot to discuss from my end," Jon said, mood immediately souring again.

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Okay . . . We left about a week after you, and went to North America, to one of the many rebel hideouts we knew of. There we captured a large majority of people, including Grayson. We gained information there of where Jordan and Bruce were headed, so we quickly followed, found them in Central City, and apprehended Jordan. Bruce was killed. Then we came back, and I've just been working on Grayson since."

"Ah, you left an important detail out though."

"Do share?" Damian asked with an eyebrow raise.

"Jason."

"Ah. He requested that I not make that information public. Other than you and I, Lor-Zod, Hal Jordan, Jason and Roy are the only ones who know. And no one will believe anything Hal says."

Jon nodded, it appeared Damian was done, so he sighed, dropping his hands from Damian's hair and resting them on his thighs.

"It was a fairly rough trip," he started, considering how he wanted to tell Damian everything that had happened. "The first day I was there, I got into a big fight with Kal and Kon."

"What for?"

"Kon kept making snide comments about you and I wasn't going to allow that, so I snapped at him. . . Kal slapped me, and I yelled at them both, called out Father for being two-faced and stood up for myself, and by proxy you."

Damian scowled but just motioned for him to continue. Jon sighed, adjusting Damian's position on his lap slightly.

"And the next day is when things got . . . Very tense. Damian, I never told you this, but my grandfather does not. . . Well he's never quite approved of me and my choices in romantic partners. I did not intend to tell him about our relationship because I knew he would try to convince Kal against it. He's already fairly xenophobic, as well as . . . What is your word for it? Roy called it homophobic, no?"

"Correct," Damian hissed out, his scowl only intensifying.

"So he was less than pleased when Kon told him at dinner one day. We got into another fight over it, where I once again defended myself. He tried to attack me or something, but Roy stepped in and stopped him. I left after that, and from there the whole week was just bad," Jon explained. "He was constantly badgering at me or completely ignoring me. My grandmother wouldn't even look at me, Kon was as smug as could be, and even Kal was . . . Distant. I'm afraid I may have caused you more issues, and I'm sorry."

Damian's expression had gone blank, and he looked at Jon for a few seconds in silence before leaning forwards, cupping his face, and kissing him softly.

"I am so proud of you. Do not apologize for standing up for yourself. Your grandfather does not know what he is talking about, and your father is an incompetent arrogant fool. You are beautiful and wonderful, and I am glad you did what you did, okay?" Damian murmured gently, stroking Jon cheekbone.

"But Damian-"

"No buts. People like that are not worth your time, Jon. They are not worth your energy and anger. We will handle whatever happens when it happens. And as far as I'm concerned, your grandfather is not invited to our wedding."

Jon sighed again, shaking his head and looking up at Damian, who just smiled lightly.

"Mostly because if he was here, I would undoubtedly punch him."

That got Jon to laugh, shaking his head again.

"Oh my gods, the scandals that would cause."

Damian smirked. "I know. Anything else to report from your trip?"

"The Kryptonian's really liked Roy, Kon's wedding was dull at best. My sleep schedule had been horribly messed up, and I am so glad to be back home."

Damian hummed. "Home?"

"Of course. Wherever you are is my home."

Damian just nodded to this, leaning forwards to kiss Jon again.

"Then let's make up for some lost time, shall we?"

Damian was already shifting forwards before Jon started moving, wrapping his legs around Jon's hips the moment he was stood, holding Damian up. Jon easily carried Damian inside, ripping back the sheets before laying him down on the mattress. It creaked slightly as Jon crawled on it, moving so he was over Damian, kissing him and working to remove his clothes with one hand. Damian eagerly reciprocated, pulling at Jon's shirt, getting it off before Jon got any of his off.

"God Jon, I've had such a lonely month," Damian murmured, hooking his legs up around Jon's hips.

"You've been lonely?" Jon asked, slipping an arm under Damian's back, pulling him up so he could get his shirt off. "I've been stuck with people who absolutely hate me."

Damian chuckled, helping Jon with his shirt, and then pulling his hair out of its ponytail. He didn't elaborate, just undid Jon's pants and shoved those off as they fell into their normal rhythm, albeit a little rushed today in their eagerness. Clothes were hastily pushed off, and Jon was torn between sucking Damian's cock or fucking him until he was screaming. When he started to mouth at the engorged member, however, he got his answer, as Damian grabbed his hair, roughly yanking at him.

"Don't you dare," he snarled. "I have waited five weeks for you. I want to feel you inside me, I want you to fuck me so hard that I'm screaming for mercy, and I want you to never stop."

Oh. So we were in one of these moods today. Damian rarely got like this, usually just after visits to the Lazarus pit. There were a few times that Jon had to treat him a bit like this anyways, days he was being a brat, days he was being spazzy, days he needed exhausted to sleep. He didn't necessarily like it, it felt cruel and mean, and he never wanted to be like that with Damian. Damian deserved to be loved, to have his body worshipped, to be treated like he was the most expensive thing on Earth, in the universe. But when Damian was in this mood, Jon had no choice but to oblige, because he could never deny Damian anything.

So he listened, he was rough, he was harsh, he bit Damian's skin hard enough that he actually caused Damian's neck to bleed. He flipped Damian around, pushing his upper body into the bed, barely bothering to prep him before pushing in raw, biting his shoulder blade to muffle his own cries as Damian screamed into the mattress. His cries echoed around the room as Jon relentlessly fucked him in a harsh rhythm, his body rocking harshly against Jon's with every thrust. Jon bent forwards over him, lapping up the blood leaking out of the bite in Damian's neck. It was metallic and it was almost weird how he enjoyed the taste. 

"Fuck! Jon! God, please!" Damian whined out, tilting his face to look back at his lover. "Please!"

"No," Jon growled, his fingernails digging into Damian's hip. "You don't get to cum until I say so."

Damian cried in protest, burying his face in the mattress again. Jon grabbed his hair and yanked his face up.

"I want to hear you, Damian, I want your cries to be heard on the other side of the castle. I want people to know you belong to me, and only to me, and I can do _whatever I want_ to you."

Damian gave a sob, his body was shaking, but he kept his face up, openly crying and screaming. Jon pressed a kiss to his back and then returned to focusing on fucking Damian, chasing his own pleasure, his own climax. And then he caught it, crying out and thrusting as deep as he could into Damian as he filled him with his seed. Damian shook and whimpered and sobbed, but just waited. He waited while Jon fell over his back and just breathed for a moment, recovering, his own body shaking with exhaustion. And then he pulled back, pulling out and gently turning Damian over onto his back. Damian had bit his own lip so much it was bleeding, and he was covered in sweat. His eyes were dilated and wet with tears, and his cock looked painfully erect, having gone mostly untouched this whole time. Jon immediately felt his harsh streak disappear.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," Jon murmured, gently kissing his swollen lips and wiping his tear streaked cheeks.

Damian didn't respond, just let a small whimper escape into Jon's lips. Jon kissed him for a moment and then pulled back, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Damian's cock, thumb rubbing at the tip. Damian cried out again, back arching up into Jon.

"Cum for me, Damian, let go," Jon whispered, kissing his throat.

That's all it took. Damian screamed as he came all over Jon's hand and over himself. Jon caught his lips, taking in his screams and sobs. And then Damian went quiet. Jon kissed him lightly for a second and then pulled back, standing. He was tired and he wanted to curl up with Damian and sleep, but there were things that needed to be done. He gently picked Damian up and carried him into the bathroom, he turned on the shower, tying his dazed fiance's hair up and then helping Damian clean up. Once they had both rinsed, he swept Damian up again and carried him back, setting him on a chair while he quickly changed the sheets. He shoved them in the laundry hamper and turned around to find Damian already in bed, watching him expectantly. Jon chuckled and walked over, getting in and pulling the blankets up over them, pulling Damian's smaller body back against him.

"Happy now?" He murmured, kissing the back of his neck, where the bite had already stopped bleeding.

"Over the moon," Damian responded with a sleepy chuckle, grabbing Jon's hand and tangling their fingers.

"Mmm I'm glad."

They went quiet, and Jon was preparing to fall asleep when Damian spoke again.

"What are weddings like on Krypton?"

"What?" Jon asked, pulling his eyes open again to look at the back of Damian's head.

"What are your traditions? I would like to blend our different traditions as best as possible."

"We- I'm sorry, this is what you're thinking of currently?"

Maybe Jon needed to have another go at him.

"It's been on my mind for a while, just amuse me," Damian hummed out, wiggling his hips back against Jon's a little tighter.

"Okay, fine." Jon propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at Damian as he spoke. "We have about four days of celebration. The first is almost like a funeral, the families get to basically mourn the loss of their children, even though they're not dying. The second day is celebrations, the two families have separate parties and just get to celebrate their child and prepare them for the wedding, which is the next day. Sometimes there's a ceremony, sometimes not, it depends on the family, really. For the more traditional families, it's more of passing the bride to the groom, and paying the bride price."

"What are your ceremonies like."

"They can be rather lengthy, because people will talk about why the couple made a good match, while they'll be good mates, so on. Then there is the legal combining of the couple, and in the evening, a more public celebration, with both families, celebrating the union of the families through their children."

"Interesting."

"And day four is all about the consummation," Jon told him, leaning over his shoulder to kiss him lightly. "The couple often spend the night of the wedding apart, and then all of the next morning preparing themselves."

"Why would they do that?" Damian asked, turning his face up towards Jon.

Jon shrugged, gently kissing his cheeks and jaw. "To be pretty and attractive? Increase their sexual appeal? Honestly it beats me. But the fourth day is all about them having sex and the families of both generally prepare a meal for them so they don't have to leave their house or worry about cooking. And it's like this whole big celebration too."

Damian raised an eyebrow, even as he rolled flat to let Jon keep kissing him. Jon apparently still had energy in him, and he always wanted to taste Damian's skin. So he settled on top of his fiance and sucked bruises into his neck. 

"Why? Is sex some special holy thing for you?"

"No, it's more that," Jon started, every few words broken by a pause to kiss Damian. "A lot of Kryptonian's are infertile, and so they encourage a lot of sex in the hope that, in a relationship between a man and a woman, she will be able to get pregnant. It doesn't always work, which is why we created ectogenesis, to prevent our species from dying out."

"Oh."

Jon held his tongue as he focused on the spot right over Damian's throat.

"Why am I letting you do this?" Damian huffed out, as he slipped his arms over Jon's shoulders.

Jon chuckled, glancing up to him and smiling. _Because you love me_ he thought, but kept it to himself, knowing that was still a touchy topic.

"Because you love it when I touch you," he said instead, nipping the skin and getting a gasp.

Damian sent him a glare, but there was no venom behind it. 

"Are you wanting more?" He asked, tangling a hand into Jon's hair.

"Not necessarily, I was content marking your beautiful skin. But if you're offering…"

Damian sighed, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling.

"Anyway. I was thinking, I would have to make it into some big hullabaloo for the empire, a few days of festivals or something. We could have a small ceremony though, your father is invited if he promises to behave, and I suppose your brother… and then we can take a small trip or vacation for a few days, stretch out that fourth day into several?"

"Sounds good to me. I trust your planning."

"Good. Do Kryptonian's have traditional wedding clothes?"

"Damian, darling, love, light of my life. Is this really important right now?"

Damian sighed, looking back at him.

"No."

"There, then relax. I would like to sleep with you actually beside me tonight."

Damian sighed at him again. He still looked fairly tired, fairly out of it, but of course he was still working. He pushed on Jon's shoulder.

"Get off then."

"What?"

"Do you want me to suck you or not?"

"Oh!"

Jon quickly got off Damian and rolled over onto his back. The Emperor just chuckled and rolled his eyes, taking a moment to gather himself before moving his tired body and disappearing under the sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I really did that.  
> I really made Jason kill Bruce.
> 
> Also, it's so interesting, seeing the difference of Damian the Emperor, and Damian the fiance, isn't it?  
> And yes, i brought Brat Bottom Damian into this fic, what did you expect?
> 
> I may be taking next week off. I've been taking some time, stepping back from this fic and working on some other projects, because I was losing energy for this story and losing sight of my end goal. Also there are some filler chapters I have to write and I'm not doing too hot on those.  
> So if there is no chapter next week(the 13th of April), expect one the week after, on the 20th of April!  
> Thanks for understanding, and thanks for reading!


	11. The Universe has Decided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henlo, friends! I'm back!  
> Thank you for your patience with my week off, I needed to just kind of reset and take some time to read some of the old chapters, as well as just work on some other projects, because I was beginning to lose interest in this story.  
> But we're back! With energy! Getting through the chapters!!
> 
> This week is kinda an oof-  
> Anyone who I've talked to about this fic probably knows, since there's only a few things left but...  
> We'll see.....
> 
> Enjoy!!!!!!  
> (I hope this doesn't destroy your soul like it did mine)

Damian tapped his fingers on the edge of the bath, staring up at the high ceiling as his fingernails clicked against the ceramic tub. He was fairly mentally burdened as of late, bad enough that Jon had noticed and started questioning him, suggesting he should take a day off, things like that.  


Which was sweet, but annoying after time. Especially when Damian couldn't. He absolutely could not take time off.

The reason for his agitation was this. Two days ago, Dick Grayson had finally flipped, breaking down in tears and giving Damian every single shred of information he knew on how to completely destroy the Justice League. This was amazing, perfect, it was great for Damian. But, unfortunately, it meant he was now stuck with what to do with Grayson. As Jason had pointed out, he was a rebel, he legally deserved execution. And yet. Damian was oddly attached. It was strange, after all the people he had heartlessly killed. Hell, he had watched his own father bleed to death and felt nothing but joy. But now he had developed this fondness for a man he barely knew and had in fact almost killed months ago.

He sighed, exhaling into the cool air of the bathroom and allowing his body to slip lower into the large bath. He had been in here long enough that his fingers had pruned and the top of his head was already beginning to dry. He would probably get into the shower next to actually wash his hair properly. His eyes closed and he sank all the way up to his chin in the water, which was still decently hot, thankfully.

"Are you going to get out any time soon, or should I just go ahead and go to bed?"

Damian smiled softly at the mildly teasing tone, opening his eyes and tilting his head to look up at Jon, who was standing in the open doorway into the bedroom.

"Mm, no, I was thinking of staying here all night and avoiding all my duties and all the weight of the world. . . Taking that time off like you suggested."

A frown quickly replaced Jon's teasing smirk.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, love, I'm fine. Come here."

Jon walked over. He was already dressed for bed, soft sleep pants and no shirt. Damian felt his lips tug into a frown as he saw the long silver scar on his stomach. He came and sat down on the edge of the bath, reaching out to stroke Damian's hair back.

"What's the matter?" he asked with a hum, leaning forwards and gently kissing Damian's forehead.

"I'm just thinking about Grayson's trial."

"Ah. So you've decided?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Would you like my advice?"

Damian sighed, shifting in the bath to look at Jon better. He figured he knew what Jon would say, but the man had also been raised in politics and would probably have some good insight and opinions.

"Please?"

"Execute him. Whatever attachment you've gained is secondary to your duty as emperor. He is an insurrectionist and deserves the punishment of such."

"I figured you'd say that."

"Then you know what you need to do."

"I do."

Jon raised an eyebrow at Damian who sighed and sunk further, until his mouth was covered by the water, his nose above. Jon chuckled, his expression shifting from one of concern to one of amusement, he leaned forwards, kissing Damian's temple.  


"Enjoy your bath, darling," he murmured softly, before standing and walking out.

Damian watched him leave, eyes trailing the lines of his muscles until the door swung shut, leaving Damian in solitude. He just sat in the bath for a few more minutes before feeling around for the plug and pulling it, letting the water start to drain. Then he rose from the bath, got out, and walked, dripping, over to the shower. He stepped in and turned on the water, staying back as he waited for it to heat up. He took his time, thoroughly washing his hair, letting the conditioner soak in after, enjoying the hot water pouring over his body. It wasn't often he got to take things slow. There were always matters to attend to, and lately, the emotionally draining task of dealing with Grayson.

Jon was right, he should just get it over with. He knew what he had to do anyway, no point dragging it out. Hell even Grayson knew he was just delaying the inevitable.

_ "I don't want to die." _

Damian grit his teeth and closed his eyes, blocking out the unwanted memory. Why was Grayson getting to him so bad?! He took a breath and cleared his mind, focusing on keeping thoughts of business and his kingdom out for the remainder of the shower. After, he finished getting ready for bed and then trudged out, not really bothering to dress past some underwear, and plopped himself into Jon's lap. Jon had been peacefully reading, some kryptonian book that Damian didn't understand, but at the intrusion, he smiled and put down his book.  


"Would you like something?"  


Damian huffed at him, pushing on his face, but then he promptly pushed his own face against Jon's neck.

"You may continue reading," he mumbled, closing his eyes and practically curling around Jon.

He got a hum in response, but Jon picked up his book again. So they just sat there in silence.

Damian would have to tell Jason. He scowled at the thought. That would be another mess. He hadn't talked to Jason since he and Roy left two weeks ago. He wasn't even sure where they went, the General and his Commander just packed up and left, going to take their much needed vacation. But he'd have to contact him somehow. Or he could probably just wait. They only had three weeks off, another week couldn't hurt anyone, right? Jason hadn't taken the death of Bruce well. He had done a mighty fine job of fronting for the troops, and even in front of Damian, but he was no fool and he had learned to read Jason at the age of eight. He knew the man's emotions, and could read him like a book some days. Roy was the same, but he had always shown his emotions more openly. He was the more empathic of the pair.  


But oh well, he would execute Grayson eventually, then focus on his wedding, and after, he would finish rounding up the rebels, and maybe, for the first time in thirty years, the planet could live in peace. Speaking of his wedding.

"Have you heard from Kal?" Damian mumbled into Jon's skin.

"What?"

"Your father. Has he given you an answer?"

"Oh. No, not yet."

Damian scowled to himself. That wasn't very good. But no matter.

"I was thinking we should take our honeymoon somewhere tropical, and far away from civilization, just spend a few days alone."

Jon gave a hum, and it vibrated through Damian's chest.

"Wherever you would like to go, Damian. As long as you promise I'll get you all to myself, no working, no ruling the kingdom."

Damian sighed, pulling away to look at him.

"You can't-"

"I can. As your future husband, I very much can."

Damian scowled at him and Jon just smiled back.

"Fine. I will certainly try my best."

"Thank you."

Jon leaned forwards and pecked his lips lightly before refocusing on the book held behind his back. Damian sighed and leaned forwards again. The tentative plan so far was to combine the two cultures, give Kal a day with his son, and the next would be the ceremony and a celebration for their close friends and family, whatever family they had left. They would more than likely not spend the evening apart, however, and they would leave the next day for their honeymoon. They still needed to decide on outfits, color scheme, floral arrangements, food for the reception, and so much more. Why was this more exhausting than taking over the kingdom from his grandfather.

"I want to go to sleep."

"You do?"

"Yes. I just don't want to be awake anymore."

"Okay then."

Jon closed his book, setting it on the table beside the bed, and then reaching over and flicking the light off. Jon easily slid down to a lying position, Damian shifted, sliding into the slot against his side, a leg thrown over Jon's. They were just laying there for a while, and then Damian moved, putting his chin on Jon's chest.  


"Jon?"

"Hmm?"

"I do love you, you know that right?"

There were several seconds of silence, and then Jon was moving, shifting and pressing gentle kisses to Damian's face and lips.

"I know," he murmured softly, kissing him a little harder.

Damian felt a mixture of relief and dread at having just admitted that out loud. He knew Jon knew, but he still wanted to make sure. He didn't even know why he said it now, it just felt right. They kissed for a few more seconds before just laying together, breathing the same air for a moment. And then Damian closed his eyes and put his head on Jon's shoulder and let his body relax. Jon squeezed him slightly before going still. And for the first time in a while, Damian was able to fall asleep easily, knowing he was safe in Jon's arms.

That is until he jerked awake in the middle of the night. Nightmares were pretty frequent for him, Jason liked to joke that it was Karma trying to get at him. He was never truly bothered by his nightmares, after all, when your life is as much of a horror show as his has been, not much can get to you. But they still woke him up, depending on the intensity, like tonight's dream of Ra's murdering Jon. He shot awake, gasping for air and immediately pushing away from Jon's chest as he suddenly felt trapped. Jon, still asleep, didn't resist, so Damian easily rolled away and out of bed. He felt like the room was caving in on him, so he bolted for the balcony doors, fighting with the lock for a second too long as everything pressed in on him and he struggled to breath.

And then he got them open and burst out into the cool night air, feeling a light breeze hit his face. He staggered over to the rail and leaned on it, sucking in huge breaths and calming his body forcibly through different breathing techniques. Already the details of the dream was slipping from him, he just remembered his panic in the dream. Damian stood out in the cold air for a moment, the stone cool beneath his bare feet. He reached up, grabbing his hair and sweeping it over one shoulder, starting to run his fingers through it to relax himself. It took a few minutes until his heart rate slowed and he stopped shaking. He took a breath and glanced around, noting the gentle lightening in the East. Dawn would be here soon.  


Damian turned and walked back into the bedroom, gently shutting the doors behind him. He didn't feel as if he could sleep, but Jon was still peacefully sleeping, one arm extended out awkwardly from when he had been holding Damian. The emperor sighed and turned, walking into the closet and deciding to just get ready for the day. He didn't have anything terribly important, so he just pulled on some casual clothing and then went to the bathroom, braiding his hair and then pinning it up into a bun, out of his way. By the time he was done with this, Jon was still asleep, so he just left, slipping out of their bedroom and into the main room, where Malika was waiting, having heard him moving around. She gave a small snarl purr noise, lifting her head to watch him move.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Damian said softly, walking over and petting her head. "You will let Jon know where I went, no?"

She gave him an amused look because, after all, she couldn't talk. But she plopped her head back down and watched him go to the door, putting on his sword and then leaving. He went to what had become his office of sorts, opening the curtains so that the morning light would be able to filter through. Then he sat down at the desk and began working, catching up on reports. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe he needed to get someone to help him with all this. It'd be so much easier to have someone filter through the unimportant details. He sighed and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and dived right back into work, breezing through reports quickly.

He looked up as the door opened, and a servant stepped in before freezing in place.

"Oh! Emperor Al Ghul!" The girl said, her voice thick with an accent. Italian maybe. "Excuse me for interrupting!"

Damian just waved his hand. "It's no matter. You didn't expect me to be here."

She shook her head and then realized what she'd done, looking at her feet.

"Do what you came to do," he ordered, focusing back on his datapad.

So she set about quietly dusting for about an hour. Then she turned to him.

"Would his imperial majesty like anything for breakfast?"

Damian glanced down at the clock on his desk. "Just a cup of coffee."

So she disappeared, breezing off to fetch that for him.  


Damian just shook his head to himself, standing and walking to the window, looking out through it in silence. An image of Jon's bleeding body flashed before his eyes, but he blinked, looking at the long shadows caused by the early morning light.  


"There you are."

Damian started slightly, looking up to find Jon stood at the edge of the desk. He raised an eyebrow.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm. . . " He stopped, eyes training on Jon's chest and watching the slow inhale and exhale. Jon breathed so much slower than anyone else.

"Damian?" Concerned laced that one word, and Jon stepped closer, head tilted slightly.

"Fine," Damian finished, glancing up to Jon's face.  


"Rao, no you're not. Don't lie to me."

Damian frowned as Jon grabbed Damian's arm gently, pulling him around fully. His eyes scanned over Damian's face.

"Are you getting sick?"

"What? No."

"I know you haven't been sleeping well, Damian."

"Beloved, I'm fine," Damian said, pushing Jon off and turning to walk towards his desk.

"No you're not. You're working yourself to death. If you're not sick now, you will be soon."

"Jon, I can't just stop working, I have duties, responsibilities."

"Then get help. Let  _ me  _ help. I was trained to do this, so let me."

"You have your own duties, Jon," he grumbled, sitting at his desk.

"Damian-"

He stopped as the door opened, and the servant slipped in, carrying a tray with coffee.

"Oh! Prince El!" She exclaimed, looking at Jon. "I can go get you coffee, if you would like?"

"Thank you, but no," Jon said coldly.

The servant seemed startled at this harsh response from the usually friendly Prince. She quickly set the tray on the desk and then bowed, hurrying out after. Damian poured himself his coffee and sipped it. He could sense Jon standing behind him, but didn't say anything, just started sorting through a stack of papers. Then Jon sighed, coming and kneeling beside Damian.

"I'm just worried about you, okay?"

Damian glanced down, sighing and setting down his coffee and turning to Jon. "I know you are, but I'm okay, I promise."

Jon shook his head. "No you're not. This whole business with Grayson has you all out of sorts. Would you please just deal with him?"

Damian scowled at him. "I will deal with him how and when I see fit."

"Damian-"

"I am the Emperor, Jon. I will do what I see best."

Jon stood up, stepping back, a cold guarded look coming over his face.

"Indeed you are, Emperor Al Ghul. Forgive me for ever daring to question your authority. If you need me, I'll be with my troops," Jon said in the most formal tone he had used with Damian since their original meeting.

He bowed and then spun on his heel, quickly exiting.

"Jon, wait-" Damian called, but too late.

He stared at the door as it snapped shut and swore under his breath. Damn it. Why was Jon being so . . . Irrational? He huffed and tried to push it out of his mind. He could fix it later, if it was still a problem. He had bigger problems. Like . . . Like what? What exactly was more of an issue then his fiance being pissed at him.

"God you're an asshole," Damian said out loud to himself.  


So he threw himself back into work. If he got most of this done now, then he could go patch things up with Jon after lunch. That was the plan, right?

Except just before lunch, Maya showed up with the reports of their raid in Europe, and he had to go over all those details with her, pushing lunch back until 1:30, and then right after he finished eating, he had to go to a meeting with his advisors which somehow lasted all the way until four. And then at four thirty, just as he was finishing a few things in his office, a servant walked in, datapad in hand.

"Emperor Al Ghul," he said with a bow. "General Todd for you."

"Oh, alright."

He took the datapad and looked at the active video feed.

"Jason?"

"Hey. We have a small issue."

Damian sighed, closing his eyes.

"I know. I'm sorry. But we need an extra week or two off."

"Why? Jason, I need you back."

"Well we kinda just found out Roy has a kid and the mom is in a coma right now and couldn't tell us where the kid is so now we have to go track the kid down."

Damian raised his eyebrows. "Wait, what?"

Jason sighed and explained more in detail, talking about Jade Nyguen and Roy's past relationship, how Jade got pregnant and hid it from him. How she suddenly showed up at their vacation house, freaking out because the daughter, Lian, had been kidnapped, and then had promptly passed out from blood loss. And how Roy was now hell-bent on finding the girl.

Damian sighed, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine. Okay, take an extra week, but I want you to report in at the end of this week, and the end of next if you still haven't found her."

Jason nodded, he looked better than the last time Damian had seen him.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, eyebrow raising.

"Why does everyone keep asking me this?"

"Ah, so you're not. What's up?" Jason asked, the angle of the camera shifting as he moved.

Damian sighed, glancing up at the door briefly. "I have to execute Grayson this week."

"Oh, yeah?" Jason probed, but Damian didn't miss the shift in his voice. "Finally."

"Yes. I'm oddly disturbed about it."

Jason hummed, trying to get more information.

"I don't know. And then Jon's mad at me now, so I'll have to deal with that later-"

"Why is he mad?"

"Because I'm working too much, apparently. I don't know, Todd. He's being. . . Irrational. I'm handling everything fine, and I'm balancing work and our relationship fine."

"Damian, you do remember he is not you, right? You don't need reminders of his affection, but he does. He's light years away from home, may be losing his family because of you. He might be worried that you're pulling away," Jason said, shaking his head slightly. "Just, talk to him, spend an evening with him away from work. Remind him that he is important to you and not just a pretty thing you get to keep."

Damian glared at the camera. He hated that he knew Jason was right. The general smirked lightly.

"And also? I'm not even there and I would guess you are working too much."

"I am not!"

"Okay, what time did you start working yesterday morning?"

" . . Six-thirty, seven maybe."

"And what time did you get done yesterday?"

". . . Eight."

Damian didn't like where he was going with this.

"Do I need to elaborate or have you caught on now?"

He huffed at Jason, looking away.

"You'll be fine, D, just remember you gotta actually talk with him, and be honest. He's probably just lonely."

"Keep me updated, Todd."

And Damian hung up on him. He didn't like it when Jason said things like that. Things that were right but he didn't like. Things that made him uncomfortable. He just hurried to finish up his work so he could make it to dinner on time, not bothering to change beforehand like he usually did. When he got into the dining hall, about two minutes late, Jon was already there with Maya and Kathy. Jon looked up, gave him a guarded smile and then looked back at Kathy, who immediately raised an eyebrow at him.

"My apologies" Damian said softly as he slid into his usual seat. "Jason called and so I had to take a few extra minutes to sort that out."

"Is everything okay?" Maya asked, turning to him.

"It's . . . Yes. They're going to be gone a bit longer than originally thought. I'll let them explain when they get back though, because I am still not fully aware of the situation."

The group was silent as dinner was placed in front of them. Damian ate in silence, the chilly attitude from Jon obvious to everyone at the table.  


"Maya," Damian said finally, as he poked around the last bite of food.

"Yeah?"

"How quickly could you organize an execution."

"Oh . . . Um, two days, give or take. You really wanna do this public?"

Damian shrugged. "I don't see why not. Would you recommend otherwise?"

"Well, if you want to personally do it, yes. The public doesn't need to see that. If you're content with letting someone else do it, then a public one would be fine."

He hadn't thought of that. He glanced at Jon, who was watching him with interest, gaze a little less icy than before.  


"I'll let you know tomorrow," he said finally, shoving the last bite of food in his mouth.

"Okay," was Maya's simple response before she too returned to eating.

Damian listened to the three chat about training drills. He remembered the days he would train with his soldiers, days spent out in the hot sun, getting beat up and sweaty. God, was he really getting nostalgic? He sighed to himself. Noting Jon was finished, he stood.

"Jon, will you walk with me?" He asked softly.  


Jon made a good show of looking like he was trying to decide, and then shrugged and stood. They exited the dining hall, and Damian started leading him out to the courtyard, neither speaking during this walk. When they got outside, Damian led him to the fountain, which was happily bubbling away in the warm summer evening. He sat on the edge, turning to Jon, who remained standing, arms crossed.

"Jon, I'm. . . " He sighed. Jason said to be honest. "I don't quite understand what I've done that upset you. But I am sorry for having done so. I do not want you to be mad at me."

"Yes you do. You know damn well what you did," Jon shot back.

Damian pursed his lips, looking away for a moment.

"Jon, I have to do my work."

"I know. Damian, but you don't have to let it consume you to the point that I barely see you in the morning and maybe two or three before we go to bed at night. If that."

"What would you have me do?"

"Get an assistant, let Maya do some of the work, set specific hours that you are allowed to work. I do not know. But you work far more than Kal ever did as Emperor. And I understand, you're still just trying to get things settled, but Damian, you don't have to do this alone."

"Jon."

"No, Damian. You can't tell me you can keep doing this forever."

Jon glanced around, and then slid to his knees in front of Damian, reaching out to grab his hands. The fountain bubbled joyfully behind him.

"Baby, I want to help. We're supposed to be a team, yeah? So tell me how I can help."

Damian sighed, looking away as he frowned. "I need you to be patient, Jon. I'm sorry I am working so much but I am trying to wrap things up with the rebels before our wedding so I won't have to worry about it then. I may be busy for a little bit, so just be patient. It does not mean I love you any less, I'm trying to get things in order so I can be with you more."

Jon sighed, letting his forehead drop to Damian's lap for a moment.  


"Tell me what's wrong, Jon," Damian murmured, "why did this upset you so much?"

"I'm just. . . Lonely, okay? I'm too sociable and other than Kathy and Maya, I really don't have many friends here, because everyone is terrified of me, even the Kryptonian's. The only one who isn't is Lor, and I'm pretty sure he thinks of me as his younger brother more than anything," Jon mumbled out. "So yeah, maybe I'm being a little irrational, but it's just because. . . I just don't like this feeling that you're slipping away, okay?"

"Okay."

Damian gently cupped Jon's face with his hands, forcing him to look up.  


"Jon you're not losing me. I'm not going to leave you, I know I dragged you all the way to a strange Galaxy, and I know your family is less than pleased with our choices. I'm not going to pull away, and if I seem like I am, just tell me, okay? Tell me so I can fix it, next time, instead of giving me the cold shoulder."

Jon nodded slightly, closing his eyes.

"Okay? I love you, Jon."

"I love you too, Dami."

And when Jon opened his eyes, looking up, Damian could see it on his face, in his eyes, just how much he loved Damian, his soft half smile, his big blue eyes. Damian smiled back, feeling that familiar swelling in his chest that reminded him how much he really did love Jon. Then he ducked down, kissing Jon lightly.

"And I will look into getting an assistant, if that is what you truly desire of me."

"Thank you," Jon breathed out.

"How would you like to spend our evening, beloved?"

"Anywhere with you, neither of us working, just. . . Just laying next to you. Not even anything sexual. I just need to be with you."

Damian smiled, gently stroking Jon's hair. "Then let's go."

They went back up to their room, spread a blanket out on the balcony, filled it with pillows and then laid together, watching the sunset, and then the stars slowly appear in the sky. They talked about nothing in particular, and the most important things in the world. Damian taught Jon to braid his hair, which caused much laughter during Jon's several failed attempts, and then they just laid there, Damian's head on Jon's shoulder.

"I had a nightmare last night, about Ra's killing you," Damian confessed randomly, tilting his head up to look at Jon.

There was a beat of silence. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jon looked down at him and gave a small smile and Damian got hit by this wave of raw emotion. He looked away, clenching his jaw. By nature, he shut down emotions like this. Like love. And it was taking so much from him to stop that habit. He could love Jon. He was allowed to love Jon. And boy, did he. Every time Jon did even the smallest, most adorable things, it felt like his heart swelled, and every part of him knew he never wanted to be without that. Jon could do the littlest things and cause butterflies in his stomach, and when Jon was upset with him, he wanted nothing more than to fix it. He loved Jon, but that doesn't mean he understood why.

"Where did you just go?" Jon asked gently, brushing some hair out of Damian's face.

Damian gave a questioning hum.  


"You shut down, just then. You closed off. What happened?"

"Noth-" Damian cut himself off with a sigh, he couldn't keep lying to Jon like this. "Just the usual."

Jon hummed, shifting and kissing Damian's head lightly.

"Okay."

Jon didn't question or push it, which he appreciated. The night air was chilly compared to the hot summer day, but Damian was covered in a warm blanket and curled up against a warm Kryptonian, so he barely noticed, watching the stars make their slow trek across the sky. He didn't notice Jon drift to sleep, and he didn't even realize he was falling asleep until it was too late.

The next morning brought him an aching back and neck, and a resolution that he was never falling asleep on the balcony again. He woke before Jon for once, as the sun slowly rose into the sky, casting a yellow glow over them. Damian groaned, shifting and shoving his face into his fiance's shoulder. He had fallen between the pillows and was actually laying on cement at this point, a pillow shoved awkwardly between them. Jon mumbled in complaint as Damian shifted around, trying to get comfortable so he could go back to sleep. After trying to wrangle pillows for a moment, he gave up and just climbed on top of Jon, head on his chest.  


"Well good morning," Jon mumbled, arms wrapped around Damian.

Damian grunted in return, closing his eyes again. Jon yawned and stretched as best he could before lightly nuzzling the top of Damian's head.

"Hey," he mumbled, clearly trying to snag the older man's attention.

"No."

"No?"

"No. You made me fall asleep on a fucking balcony, you can be my pillow for a bit."

Jon chuckled, as he often did when Damian swore like that, he slipped his hand under Damian's shirt, fingers lightly dancing along his spine. Damian did actually doze off for a bit, and when he woke up again, he just laid there, content.

"Fiji?"

"What?" Jon asked, shifting lightly now that he knew Damian was awake.

"Should we go to Fiji?"

"Damian, I already told you I don't care, I don't know half of these locations anyway."

Damian sighed. "There's your work then. Look them up so you can give me input."

Jon chuckled. "Okay, darling."

Damian just hummed, turning to look up at Jon, who smiled.  


"Hey, gorgeous."

Damian smiled lightly, adjusting so his hands were stacked on Jon's chest, his chin on his hands.

"Hello, love."

"What's the plan?"

"Mm, I was just thinking a nice hot shower before breakfast would be nice."

"Yes sir."

Damian didn't know how Jon did it, but he easily stood, scooping Damian up in his arms in the process, and carried him inside. He took Damian into the bathroom and set him on the edge of the tub before going and starting the shower, turning it to hot. Damian watched him with a smile before starting to undress from last night's clothes, tossing them in the laundry basket in the corner of the room. Jon started towards the door after a moment.

"And where are you going?"

"Oh, uhhh," Jon turned back to him, eyebrow raising.

"You were included in this shower, if that wasn't clear."

Jon smiled lightly and nodded, beginning to strip. Damian walked over and stepped into the shower, hissing slightly at the hot water and turning it down. It had just cooled enough that he could step under it when Jon stepped in, gently shutting the glass door behind him. Damian glanced over as he tilted his head back, letting the water soak through his hair.

"I think I'm due for a trim," he said to Jon as he pulled his hair over his shoulder, making sure it was thoroughly wetted.

"Your hair?"

"Yes. Just a bit, enough to keep it healthy."

"Ah."

Jon stepped up and wrapped his arms around Damian's waist, pulling him back, snug against his chest.

"What are you doing?" Damian asked, amused. He could feel Jon's dick against his ass.

Jon didn't respond, just nuzzled at his neck, then started lightly kissing it, brushes of his lips, ghosting along every inch of caramel skin he could reach. How beautifully they contrasted. Jon's light, barely tanned skin, verses Damian's naturally darker tones. Damian just leaned back into him, the water spilling over Jon's shoulders and down his front.

"You're so beautiful," Jon murmured as he nipped Damian's skin. "So lovely."

His hands gently ran down Damian's sides, to his hips, gently rocking them together. Then Damian got impatient. If this was what was happening, he wanted to get his hands on Jon. He twisted around, breaking Jon's hold, and pushing him back against the ceramic wall, hands sliding up into his hair, tangling the black locks and yanking him down until he could press their lips together. It didn't matter that they undoubtedly had morning breath, Damian just wanted Jon's hands on him.

"Someone's looking for you," Jon mumbled after a few minutes of kissing.

"I don't care," Damian hissed back, his hand sliding down to carefully begin stroking Jon's cock.

"I thought you said no shower sex?" Jon asked, hastily stifling a moan.

He did say that. Shower sex was a bad idea, it was messy, it was dangerous. But now he was hard and whose fault was that? Damian scowled at Jon, who just smiled, gently running his hands through Damian's wet hair.

"Whatever you want," he reminded gently.

"Help me wash my hair," Damian grumbled, turning away.

Jon laughed slightly, but obliged, getting some of Damian's shampoo and beginning to rub it in, carefully scrubbing at his scalp with his fingers, and then massaging some of the shampoo down into the rest of his hair. Damian just relaxed into his touch, eyes closed against the soap. Jon gently moved him under the water, working to rinse the soap out. Damian was fully relaxed in his fiance's care, and he just let himself enjoy it. He didn't let himself think about work, or all his tasks, just on Jon's warm calloused hands, running over his skin.  


After they had both washed completely, they got out and toweled off before going and getting dressed. Breakfast was Belgium waffles and coffee, eaten out on the balcony. Afterwards, Jon came and sat on the edge of the tub, watching Damian get ready for the day, neither really speaking. Once Damian was ready, he turned to Jon and he smiled softly.

"Well, I'll see you this evening then?"

"Yes, let me know if anything comes up," Jon said, standing.

"I will," Damian chuckled out.

Jon surprised him by leaning down and just hugging him tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."  
  


Dick's execution was scheduled for Friday. No publicity, just the execution, and then they'd announce it and move on. Then Damian could move onto planning happier things like his wedding.

In the end, he had decided to just get it over with and slice Grayson's throat and move on. So that's what he did. He, Jon, and Maya marched down to the cellblock one day, the guards pulled Dick out of his cell, and Dick didn't even struggle. He just sighed, eyes scanning over Damian, his katana already drawn.

"So it's time then?"

Damian nodded.

"I don't get last goodbyes?"

"To whom would you like a last goodbye?" Damian asked, eyebrow raising.

"Oh, I don't know, my daughter? Her mother? Tim, if he's still alive? There's a list."

Damian scowled at him. But he turned to his Maya.

"Go see if you can contact the work colony his family is at and get her on a call."

She nodded, and darted off.

"I will allow you to speak to your daughter one last time."

Dick just nodded, looking away. They stood there for a moment before Dick looked back over, right at Jon, critically scanning him.

"So this is your fiance. The Kryptonian Prince?"

"What makes you think that?" Damian asked, crossing his arms, sword resting against his leg.

"Well the way he's protectively standing behind you, and the engagement ring. That and he's dressed nicer than any of the kryptonian guards I've seen."

"How do you know I'm Kryptonian?" Jon shot back, his gaze cold and detached.

"I just do. You guys look different. Built a little differently than humans. Bruce taught Tim and I how to tell after.... After Wally and Diana-" Dick stopped talking, looked at the floor quickly, then clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Love, why don't you go attend to your tasks," Damian suggested, turning to Jon.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," Damian hummed, stepping in and kissing him. Jon pursed his lips, then nodded and turned, walking away.

"Can I ask a question?" Dick said softly.

"I suppose."

"Where is Roy? I've been hoping to see him. . . "

"Commander Harper accompanied Prince El to Krypton a few weeks ago, and upon his return, he and General Todd left for some time off."

"General . . . He and Jason?"

"They are also engaged."

Dick's eyes went wide, staring at Damian in shock.

"Roy and- Jesus. That's. . . Wow."

Damian chuckled in amusement. Maya suddenly appeared.

"They're bringing her now," she said softly, holding a datapad out to Damian.

He took it, and then nodded to the guards, who released their grip on Dick. Damian passed the tablet over, and Dick held it up, watching the screen carefully. Damian pulled Maya away slightly to give him a little privacy.

"Have you heard anything from Jason?" Damian asked softly.

"Not for a few days. Why?"

"I'm just curious how their . . . Mission was going."

Maya shrugged lightly.

"Mar'i! Mar'i, hi baby girl! It's okay, no don't cry!"

Damian glanced over as Dick started talking, smiling sadly at the camera.

"That one is going to be a handful now, you should not have allowed that," Maya grumbled.

"What do you want me to do then, Maya? She would've become a handful eventually anyway, when she learned of his death. At least now she'll get closure, as will Grayson."

Maya shook her head slightly, glancing away.

"Jon's certainly changed you, Damian."

Damian ignored that, looking back towards Dick, who was crying.

"I know. I know, Mar'i. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be there for you anymore, but listen, you gotta promise me something."

"What?" A young voice hiccuped out from the other line.

"You can't be like your mom and I, okay? You have to be good, and they won't-" Dick stopped as he choked up. "You have to promise to me that you won't ever be part of the Justice League."

There was silence, then- "Dad."

"Mar'i. Promise me. I need you to do this."

"Okay. Okay. I won't dad, I promise."

"Thank you, Mar'i. I love you, so much. Never forget that, okay?"

"I love you too, Dad," Mar'i was obviously crying.

"Be good."

"Dad, please," Mar'i hiccuped out.

Damian looked away again, feeling an unfamiliar stab of guilt go straight to his heart.

"I'm sorry, babygirl, I gotta go now. I love you so so much."

"Dad! No! You can't, please! Please don't give up! You gotta fight!"

"I'm sorry, Mar'i, there's no more fighting for me."

"Dad!" The girl half screamed, half sobbed.

"Mar'i, please. You gotta be strong, okay?"

"Daddy, please."

"I love you," Dick murmured one last time.

Damian suddenly wanted to throw up. He was practically orphaning a child. Maya reached out and touched his arm.

"Dad-"

"Mar'i."

"I love you t-" the end was cut off by sobbing.

Dick just stared at the screen for a moment, then smiled sadly.

"You're gonna be so beautiful. . . " He murmured. "Goodbye, Mar'i."

"Daddy, no-"

Dick ended the call, letting a guard rip the tablet from his hand. He was still crying when he looked up at Damian.

"Go on then," he croaked out, messily wiping at his eyes. "Do it. Get this over with."

Damian took a breath, glancing at Maya and nodding.

"Richard Grayson, you are accused of crimes against the state, treason, rebellion, aiding and abetting convicted criminals, organizing a rebellion, and the killing of royal soldiers to name a few. Do you have anything to say in your defense?" Maya rambled.

Dick shook his head.

"You have been found guilty of these accusations, and your punishment is execution. Have you any last words?"

Dick looked directly at Damian.

"I hope you rot in hell."

Neither Maya or Damian reacted.

"May your soul be fairly judged in the halls of the dead, and may you find peace in the afterlife," Maya said, in a break from custom, before stepping back.

Damian looked down at the sword in his hand, then up at the unarmed man in front of him.

"Get on your knees," he said softly.

Dick obeyed, moving to a knelt position.

Damian stepped forwards, crouching in front of Dick.

"I wish it had not come to this. But it did. Say hello to Father for me. I'll make sure your daughter is kept safe until adulthood."

Dick just glared back at him. Damian straightened and moved back. He didn't let himself think, just pulled back his sword, and sliced, slitting Dick's throat in one clean cut. Blood instantly started squirting out, and Damian side stepped to be out of the way, watching Dick's body crumple to the ground, twitching and convulsing. He sighed, and then looked at Maya.

"Well. What's next?"

"You have a meeting with General Franks about his new Commander, I believe. And for the last time, I'm not your assistant."

"Right." He glanced back at the dying body, and was mildly disturbed by how little he felt.

"Make sure this is cleaned up," he instructed. "And I'm entrusting the public announcement to you."

Maya nodded and then saluted.

"Yes, your Imperial Majesty."

Damian nodded curtly and turned, walking away, back up to his office. He had his meeting with General Franks, approved his new Commander, and no sooner finished that meeting, then Jon stepped in.

"Ah, hello, beloved."

"Hello. I got that thing looked into for you," Jon said, walking over with a file, which he set on the desk.

"Very good. Thank you."

"How are you?" Jon asked, bracing his hand against the wooden slab top.

"I'm fine?" Damian asked with a frown, glancing up.

Jon raised an eyebrow, and Damian understood.

"Oh. That. Yes, I'm perfectly okay, Jon. It's just business."

"Yeah, okay. . . Anyway, do you have anything you want me to do next?"

"Look into those vacation spots I've been telling you about."

Jon chuckled, shaking his head and walking around the desk so he could kiss Damian's head.

"Okay. I'll go do that now. I love you."

"Love you too."

"See you at supper?"

"As always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Did it kill you?  
> Did it kill you as coldly as Damian killed Dick? No attachment? No emotions?  
> Did it kill you?  
> IT KILLED ME AND IM THE BITCH WHO WROTE IT
> 
> Annnywwaayyyy. The reason Damian was struggling with attachment was because the universe wanted Damian and Dick to be family, because they should always be family.  
> The universe was me btw.  
> But alas, sometimes things don't work the way we want.  
> So Rest In Peace, Richard.
> 
> We'll probably be back to weekly updates now! At least next week's lol, because I have that written already. So look forward to those!  
> Thanks for reading, frens!


	12. Tying the Knot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Look! I got it out on Monday 😅  
> I honestly forgot I had to update today, whoops.
> 
> Longer chapter, but I think it's a good one, and I wouldn't have wanted to break it up :)
> 
> Enjoy!

So it was finally time.

They were getting married at the end of the week.

Jon smiled as he woke up with that thought, tilting his head to look over and see Damian asleep still, on his side, facing Jon. It made him smile and he reached out, gently brushing back a loose strand of hair, and letting his fingers linger on Damian's cheek for a moment. By Friday, they would be husbands. With a happy sigh, Jon rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. He laid there for only a moment before standing and walking to the balcony, he opened the doors and stepped out. Birds were chirping in the cool morning air, in the distance he could already see workers going into the fields, trying to get ahead of the summer heat.

His family would be arriving today. Kal, Kon and Lin. Jor had been informed he was not to be in attendance, so he remained on Krypton to rule in Kal's stead. It would be the first time Damian would meet Kon, and he wasn't nervous, per say, more wary. After a moment of standing on the balcony, Jon turned and walked back inside, leaving the doors open. He headed into their main room, where Malika had taken to sleeping. She immediately stood and stretched when she heard him, and a quiet mew reminded Jon of their latest addition, a small black kitten named Jasper. Jon's child.

"Hello, little one," Jon said softly, walking over and scooping the kitten up, before going and letting Malika out.

Jasper mewled and climbed up onto Jon's shoulder. Jon chuckled, reaching up and petting his head. He walked back into the bedroom, setting him on the bed, watching as the kitten climbed over to Damian. He chuckled again and turned, going to the bathroom quickly before coming back and getting back into bed behind Damian, slipping his arm over Damian's waist and tugging him back, flush against Jon's front. Damian groaned, wiggling his hips lightly until they were pressed even tighter.

"Good morning," Jon chuckled, moving Damian's hair so he could lightly kiss him, kissing a fading bruise a few times.

Damian mumbled something, turning his face into the pillow. Jon smiled and left Damian to sleep, just running his fingers along Damian's ribs lightly. After about five minutes, Damian yawned and stretched, gently petting the cat and then looking up at Jon.

"Morning," he mumbled, smiling sleepily.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Damian chuckled and dropped his head back to the pillow, closing his eyes. They just laid in bed together until the knock on the door signified their breakfast arriving.

"I'll get it," Damian said, stretching once more. Then he moved away and got up.

Jon watched him leave, listened to him conversing with the servant for a second, and then heard the door shut. He shuffled back over to his side of the bed and sat up, leaning against the headboard. Damian came back, Malika on his heels, carrying a tray which he sat on the bed before sitting cross-legged on it, facing Jon.

"The servant tells me your family should be here in two hours."

"Great."

They ate in silence for a moment.

"Are you nervous?" Damian asked randomly.

"Maybe a little."

"Why?"

"I'm just . . . concerned about what they're gonna say and do about you. Especially Kon."

Damian smiled softly and looked down at his food. "It'll be okay, Jon. They can say whatever they want. Would it make you feel better if I kept my guards with me?"

"Yeah, a little."

They smiled at each other and then focused on finishing eating. Jon got done first and got up, going to the closet and picking out an outfit, black pants, and a loose red tunic. He pulled on his boots and then walked over to the bed.

"I'm going to go make sure things are ready for our guests, I'll bring them to you when they get here."

"Okay," Damian responded, sipping his tea quickly before tilting his face up. Jon kissed his cheek.

"Bye."

Damian called out something in another language as Jon walked out the door.

He headed first to the west wing of the palace, where guests were frequently given rooms. He found some servants already bustling around and stopped one, asking her to show him the rooms for Emperor Kal and Prince El. She gave him a momentarily confused look, then nodded in understanding, leading him away.

"Here is one of the rooms," she told him, opening the door.

Jon walked in and looked around. It was about the size of the main room and his and Damian's room, but this one had the bedroom and living space all in one. There was no balcony, just big bay windows, and an attached bathroom. He nodded in approval and walked out, being shown to the next room, which was nearly identical.

"Very good, thank you," Jon told the servant, giving her a friendly smile.

"Of course my Lord, thank you." She bowed hastily.

Jon chuckled to himself, turning and walking away. He didn't really have a location in mind. He needed to go pick up their outfits today, but not necessarily right now, he also needed to check with Kathy that she'd be okay while he was away, and he should probably check with Jason and Roy.

"Lian!"

Jon grunted as something crashed into him. He just barely caught the young girl who had crashed into him before she tumbled to the ground. She must've come from around the corner and not seen him until it was too late.

"Lian!" The voice said, sterner this time, and Roy appeared around the corner.

"Good morning, Lian," Jon said with a chuckle, gently setting the girl down on her feet.

"Good morning, chú!" Lian chirped out, with a bright smile.

"You better watch where you are going in the future."

"I know! Sorry!"

"Why were you running anyway?"

"Because Cha-"

Lian squeaked as Roy grabbed her and easily heaved the young girl over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Jon!" Roy said with a friendly smile.

"Good morning Roy," Jon answered with another laugh.

"Getting ready for your family?"

"Yes I am. You wanna come greet them with me?"

"Nope!" Roy laughed out. "I had enough of them for one lifetime. Besides, little missy and I have to go make sure her dress fits, right?"

Lian launched into some rant in Vietnamese that just caused Roy to laugh.

"See you around, Jon!"

"Bye Roy, Bye Lian!"

"Bye chù!"

Jon chuckled to himself, watching them walk away. Lian had come to live in the palace a few weeks ago after Jason and Roy had rescued her from kidnappers. Her mother, Jade, was going to be living in the nearby town, but was currently traveling around, visiting some friends and family and settling her affairs. Lian was a sweet girl, very clever, and mischievous. She and Jason liked to mess with Roy. Jason and Roy had also gotten married while they were on their vacation, apparently, and Damian had not been very impressed with their decision to do so without him.

Deciding not to bug their tailor with too many visitors at once, Jon went to find Kathy. He was . . . Mildly surprised, to find her walking out of Maya's room.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, taking a step back when she acknowledged Jon's presence.

His eyebrow raised.

"I was! Uh! I fell asleep! We had been talking last night and I fell asleep in her room!" Kathy said quickly, answering his mental question.

"Okay, Kath," Jon said with a chuckle and a headshake.

"It's the truth."

He gave her a look and she shrugged.

"Anyway, I was looking for you."

"You were?"

"Yeup. Damian had some things he wanted me to discuss with you. Tasks he wants done while we're gone."

"Oh, yes, you mentioned them earlier."

They walked towards the mess hall, discussing the various training and security things Damian wanted looked into. Maya was to be left in charge of national matters while they were gone, Jason would be in charge of military issues, and Kathy was to work on palace security.

"Are you eating with me?" Kathy asked as they stopped outside the mess hall.

"No, I ate with Damian earlier. And I have some errands to run before my family gets here."

Kathy smiled slightly. "Right, have fun with that!"

"Thanks, Kath," Jon answered with a laugh and a smile.

He turned and walked away, heading to find the tailor, there he picked up their regalia and took it back to their rooms. He had no sooner hung those up than a servant appeared in front of him.  


“Prince El! The Kryptonian ship has arrived!”

“Very good, thank you.”

He followed the servant out to the airfield, watching as the small shuttle landed in front of them. Then a small ramp dropped down, and from it came several figures, Kal-El, Kon-El, and Lin Zod-El. They looked around in surprise, Lin’s eyes wide.  


“It’s so green!” She exclaimed in that airy voice that made Jon want to strangle her.

“The air is thinner too,” Kon remarked, and then he spotted Jon. Jon was mildly surprised by the look that flashed over Kon’s face, one of almost regret. Jon felt an eyebrow raise, but pulled a smile onto his face.

“Jon!” Kal called, waving and walking over.

“Hello, Father,” Jon said with a smile, stepping up and hugging his father quickly. “Welcome to Earth.”

“You live here?” Kon said in amazement, looking up at the huge palace behind them.

“Oh me, and about a hundred soliders and servants,” Jon responded with a chuckle. “Lin it’s good to see you.”

“And you Jon! How have you been?”

The woman stepped forwards and hugged him, smiling.

“I’m good. Shall we go meet Damian? The servants will take your bags,” Jon said, stepping back and motioning at the servants who were already gathering their things.

“Lead the way,” Kal said, motioning.

Jon turned and walked back into the palace, preparing himself a bit. They quizzed him for a bit about Earth and different things about the palace. When they actually got inside, Jon stopped a servant he recognized that usually hung out around Damian.

“Where’s Emperor Al Ghul?” He asked, figuring it would be easier to ask instead of wandering around the palace for an hour.

“I believe he’s in his office, my lord,” the servant said, keeping his eyes lowered.

“Thank you,” Jon said, waving him off and then turned and walked away.

He started heading to the office, stopping in front of the door and tapping on it, barely glancing at the guards on either side.  


“Damian?” he called.  


“Come in!”

Jon smiled to himself, looking up at his family for a brief second before opening the door. Damian was sat at his desk, writing something. He was dressed very nicely in a tight black shirt which framed his muscles, and one of his harem style pants. He had his makeup done, but nothing too intense, just highlighting his natural features. His hair had been pulled into a loose but elegant bun. The Emperor looked up as the door opened, his lips curling into a smile the second he saw his fiance.

“Hello, Love,” he said, setting down his pen.

“Hello! My family is here.”

“Ah,” Damian said, glancing behind him to see the three other Kryptonians.

Jon walked in, letting the door stay open as he walked over, bending to kiss Damian quickly. Damian leaned up into the contact, then pulled back, turning to face Kal as he stood.

“Emperor El, welcome back to Earth.”

“Thank you, Emperor Al Ghul, Earth never ceases to amaze me.”

Damian’s eyebrow arched at that, Jon chuckled and leaned against the edge of the desk, wondering how this was going to go.

“This is my eldest son, High Prince Kon-El,” Kal said, turning and motioning back at Kon. “And Princess Lin Zod-El, his wife.”

Lin curtsied while Kon bowed slightly.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Damian greeted, nodding his head slightly. “I hope your trip was without any troubles?”

“Oh it was just fine,” Kal answered for everyone. “Though, two weeks spent in a flying metal box can’t necessarily be called enjoyable.”

“Ah, yes that is understandable,” Damian responded with a small chuckle.

“What were you working on?” Jon asked, reaching out to pick up the paper.

“Oh, just normal business and reports,” Damian answered him, watching him read the fairly boring paper.

Jon hummed, handing it back after discovering it really wasn’t interesting. “Okay, well I’m going to give them the tour, see you at supper?”

“Of course. Oh! Did you go by the tailors?”

“Yes, I got it handled, the clothes are hanging up in our closet.”

“Perfect. Thank you, beloved.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jon hummed, kissing Damian quickly before turning and walking towards the door.

He didn’t miss the shocked look on Kal’s face. The Kryptonian’s gave their own fair wells and then followed Jon out. He gave them a small tour, ending in the gardens where they found Lian and Jason, Lian reading from a book while Jason tapped at a data pad.

“This is General Todd, Commander Harper’s husband,” Jon said, motioning at him.  


Jason looked up, confused, and then a look of contempt crossed his face. He quickly masked it, standing.

“Emperor El,” he greeted, with a bow.

“And this is their daughter, Lian.”

“Cha, who is that?” Lian asked, barely looking up from her book.

“Lian!” Jason scolded.

“What?” She asked, scowling.  


“Lian, this is Chù’s papa, Emperor El,” Jason explained gently, Lian looked up, at Jon, then at Kal.

“Oh.”

"Hello little one," Kal told her with a smile.

"I'm eleven, I'm not little."

Kal chuckled. "No, I suppose not."

Lian looked back down to her book, unbothered by the emperor. She now lived in the actual capital of the Al Ghul empire, and her uncle was the Emperor, why would she be? Jon chuckled and looked back to his family, motioning back towards the gardens again.

"Shall we continue?"

So they did. They continued walking around the gardens, everything still green and beautiful in the late summer. As they passed a small wooden gazebo, Kal pointed at it.

"Why don't we sit down and chat?" He suggested.

Jon felt that instant wave of dread hit him, but he nodded, going in and sitting down. Kal sat next to him, Kon and Lin across from them. There was a moment of silence and then Jon decided to preempt any of Kal’s questions with his own, looking at Lin specifically.

“So, how has it been, being married to this one?” Jon asked, gesturing towards Kon.

“It’s good, mostly strange to be living with a man near my age. I didn’t have any brothers,” she explained with a smile, leaning into Kon slightly.

“Fixed all his annoying habits yet?”

She giggled lightly, glancing at Kon. “Oh, a few.”

“That’s good.”

“Would you like some tips before you move in with Damian?” She asked with a smile.

“Oh. . . Uh.” And yet another Kryptonian custom Jon had broken when it came to Damian. “I already live with him.”

Lin looked confused for a moment, before looking at Kon and making a little ‘oh’ noise. Jon shrugged and cleared his throat.

“Yeah.”

“He really does just love destroying our customs and culture, doesn’t he?” Kal said with a scoff.

Jon snapped a glare over to Kal, eyes narrowing.

“Father!” Kon exclaimed, looking shocked. “What in Rao’s name is wrong with you?”

Kal now also looked shocked. “What?”

“You can’t say things like that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you always so dismissive and rude to Jon and his fiance all the time?”

Jon was now also shocked, staring at Kon with wide eyes. Since when had Kon ever cared about what Kal said to him? Usually Kon was encouraging it.

“You have no knowledge of what Damian has planned for their wedding, or how they interact daily,” Lin inputted. “So it is incredibly rude and insensitive just to immediately assume he doesn’t care about our culture, just because they happened to start living together before they were married.”

Kal looked between the two of them, mouth hanging open. What the hell had just happened? Jon couldn’t even think to appropriately defend his future husband, he was just in shock that Kon had just stood up for him.

“Jon?” Lin gently probed.

“Oh. Yes. He’s actually taken great effort to smoothly combine our cultures as much as possible,” Jon said, recovering quickly and shooting Kal a harsh glare. He quickly explained the next few days and the ceremony.

Kal, for once in his life, actually looked scolded. He sighed, looking at the floor.

“My apologies, Jon. I should not have spoken like that.”

“Just be careful that it doesn’t happen again,” Jon said a little coldly, shifting to look back over the gardens.

After they finished their tour of the palace, the other kryptonians went to freshen up in their rooms before dinner, while Jon went to check on his soldiers, who were doing some archery training today. After this he went to dinner, sitting beside Damian like he always did. Should he probably sit at the other end of the table? Yes. But he never had before, and he wasn’t about to start now. Jason, Roy and Lian were mysteriously missing (Jon suspected Roy was doing his best to avoid his family, and that is completely understandable), but Maya and Kathy were both in attendance, sitting across from Jon. Kon was to Jons left, with Lin beside him, and Kal across from her, awkwardly spaced away from Kathy. By the time Jon had sat down, everyone was there except Damian, and none of the Earth dwellers were surprised by this, just launched into conversation, Kathy and Jon chatting about the drills, with Maya giving a little input. It took five minutes until Kal finally commented.

“Are we waiting on someone?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“Damian,” all three of them answered at once.

“And where is he then?”

Maya shrugged. “He was working on something with Jason when I saw him last. Pretty good chance they’re still at it.”

“Does he do this often?” Lin asked, glancing between the girls, who were sitting with their shoulders touching.

“Oh, it’s more frequent then I would like,” Jon confessed, with a shrug. “But he’s been doing a lot better recently.”

“Do you want me to go get him?” Kathy asked, starting to stand.

“No, we’ll wait a bit,” Jon decided, unbothered.

Kal scowled at him, but left it alone, looking up at Kon and speaking in Kryptonian.

“Have you seen many of the soldiers we’ve seen down?” he asked his eldest son.

“A few, why?”

“I was just curious if you had found out how they think things are going.”

“If you wish to talk about the kryptonian guards, I’m sure I can call Lor-Zod to dine with us,” Kathy suggested, also speaking kryptonian.

Kal and Kon both whipped their heads around to stare at her, eyes wide. She smiled, chuckling slightly.

“You can speak Krytopnese?”

“Yes. Jon taught me.”

“I thought someone else should know the language. Can’t have the guards talking shit about us when I’m not around, can we?” Jon told them, in English.

“You guys know how annoying this is, right?” Maya asked with a sigh, leaning back on her hands, knees bumping the low table.

Kathy giggled, looking over at her. “Sorry, Maya.”

“Lor-Zod is here?” Lin asked, leaning forwards on the table slightly.

“Yes. He’s the captain of the force we sent,” Kon told her. “He stays here on Earth permanently.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know him?” Maya asked curiously.

“He’s my cousin.”

“Well, he’s around the castle, so I’m sure you’ll bump into him,” Maya told her with a warm smile.

Maya never smiled at anyone like that? Well, except Kathy. But Jon wasn’t blind, he saw them flirting. He knew why Kathy got those types of smiles.

The door opened, and in walked a kryptonian guard, followed by Damian, who looked mildly frustrated. The others, except Maya, wouldn’t be able to tell just based on first glance, but he was holding himself stiffly, his jaw was clenched slightly, and he was glaring at the floor as he walked. He hadn’t changed since earlier, but his hair had been pulled out of its bun, cascading down his shoulders in slight ringlets. He glanced up, noting them watching him, and immediately a charming smile appeared.  


“My apologies for making you wait,” He said softly, yet he was the only noise in the room.

“It’s fine, darling. Something kept you, I assume?”

“Yes. Nothing of importance at the moment,” Damian told him, sitting next to him and leaning over to kiss him quickly, before looking at the others and greeting them with a nod and a smile.

Nothing of importance meant ‘I do not wish to discuss it in front of our present company’, Jon had learned that one, so he smiled and nodded and didn’t push it. Now that everyone was present, they began eating, Maya and Kon chatting with each other about different training tactics and drills. After dinner, everyone split off to do their own things, Jon managing to snag Damian and pull him away before he got dragged into anything else, or before Jon got pulled into hanging out with his family. That was what tomorrow was for, after all. They went for a walk together, Damian explaining what had caused him to be late, which was as simple as one of the governors had been caught misappropriating funds that had been designated specifically for the capital city of his region to repair roads and fund schools. Damian had to scramble to pick someone to work as a stand-in until after their honeymoon and until when he could pick a few more candidates and let the region hold an election.

The next morning, after spending nearly an hour just cuddling in bed, Jon got dressed and left his fiance, as he was supposed to spend the whole day, from morning to sundown, with his family, and then he would not be seeing Damian until the next day at the ceremony. He didn’t remember who had made that decision, but whoever it was, he wanted to smack them already. He went and found his family, already awake, as he assumed they would be. He had bumped into Kal in the halls, and found Kon and Lin in the courtyard, talking in hushed tones.

“Ah! Good morning you two,” Jon said with a smile that was more forced than not.

“Good morning, Jon!” Lin exclaimed, standing and gently hugging him, smiling brightly.

“Did you get the chance to eat?” he asked, looking at them all.

“We did,” Kon confirmed with a nod.

“As did I,” Kal inputted from behind him.

“Good. If you are all ready to go, then we can go ahead and leave.”

“Where are we going?” Lin asked, reaching down to brush a piece of grass off her skirt.

“To the nearby town, there’s some festival type stuff going on currently that I thought we might enjoy doing while it was nice out,” Jon said, turning to head back into the castle.

“Is that safe?”

“Of course, but my guards are coming with us, as are a few of the soldiers from my regiment, if that makes you feel better, father."

Kal didn’t respond. Jon just led them out to one of the many vehicle sheds, where the guards were already waiting. The drive over was fairly short, and mostly full of just Kon and Lin complaining about the time difference, and remarking that ‘This is why you were so tired when you were on Krypton last!’. Jon just laughed at them. They walked around the festival for a while, and no one would have really recognized them, if it wasn’t for the guards loosely tailing them, whom Jon ended up dismissing at some point. It wasn’t that odd for the villagers to see soldiers from the palace, but it was unusual for them to be clearly following people. They stopped in a market, Lin and Kal looking at a bunch of jewelry, when suddenly Kon grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

“Can we talk for a moment?” Kon asked softly.

“Well considering you just forcefully pulled me aside, sure.”

Kon frowned at him, but removed his hand from Jon’s arm, crossing his own. “I just wanted to apologize. The way I acted when you were last home was not acceptable, and I had no right to out you to Jor like that. It was a horrible thing for me to do, and I am sorry.”

Jon was sure his mouth fell open. Kon was looking at the floor and kind of chewing on his lip, like he was actually nervous.

“I- . . What? Did someone knock some rocks loose? Where did that come from?” Jon asked finally, startled.

“Excuse me?” Kon asked, looking back up and frowning.

“Kon. Since when have you ever apologized to me?”

Kon shrugged. “I’ve been a horrible brother, I know that, and I’m sorry. You never did anything to deserve how I treated you, and I know that ruling Krypton never meant anything to you. You never cared about it, but I acted like you were a threat anyway, when in reality you’re my little brother, and that should matter more.”

Jon went silent, looking up at Lin and Kal, processing what had just happened. Then he smiled.

“Thank you, Kon. I really appreciate that. And I appreciate you standing up for me in front of Kal yesterday.”

Kon nodded, smiling. “And I’m really happy for you, Jon. Past being addicted to his work, and his massive ego, Damian seems like a fairly decent man. And it seems like he really does care about you, a lot.”

“Oh, so you don’t think I’m some trophy?” Jon asked with a grin to show he was teasing.

Kon chuckled. “Maybe slightly, but no, I’m pretty sure you mean more than that to him.”

“I know. . . and thank you, Kon. I’m sorry for all the shit I did and pulled on you.”

“No, you’re okay. I totally deserved everything nasty you did and said to me.”

“That doesn’t make it right though.”

Kon chuckled, leaning in and hugging Jon. “You’re a good person, Jon.”

“And you’ll make a great emperor, Kon.”

“Boys, what do you think?” Lin called, turning to them, holding up a necklace.

“A darker metal would go better with your hair, Lin!” Jon called back.

“Oh! Good point.”

“When did you get so good at fashion?” Kon asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve always been good at fashion, Kon,” Jon shot back.

They were silent for a moment, watching Lin look.

“Wait, what will your title become? Will you also become an emperor?” Kon asked, looking at him.

“No I’ll-” Jon stopped, frowning and looking at the ground. “I don’t know?”

“Are you taking his last name?”

“Maybe. Maybe I’ll just finally get my title changed to General,” he joked.  


Kon rolled his eyes, lightly shoulder bumping him.

“I’ll ask him when I see him next,” Jon said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’s already thought about it.”

There was another pause, Jon glanced from Lin to Kon.

"She's been good for you, hasn't she?"

"She's amazing, Jon. I wasn't sure for a while after Father suggested the arrangement, but. . ." Kon shrugged, looking back at his brother. "She's just perfect."

Jon chuckled. "I'm happy for you, then."

"Thank you, brother."

They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in town, and when Jon finally got back, late that night, he went to one of the spare bedrooms, one that had originally been designated as his, and just passed out in bed, not letting himself think and get anxious about tomorrow.

* * *

  
  


Damian woke to a cat crawling on his stomach. He groaned and pulled open an eye, looking down at Jasper, who was crawling up to stand on his chest and stare down at him.

"Good morning little one," Damian grumbled, reaching up to scratch his ears gently.  


The soft light just beginning to enter the room told him it was fairly early, and when he rolled over to curl up against Jon, and found only Malika in his bed, he remembered. A grin stretched across his face as he buried his face into Malika's silky fur. Today was his wedding. Today he was marrying Jon.

When he was younger he thought weddings and love were silly, but now it seemed like the most important thing in the world.  


Malika picked up her head to blink at him, and he chuckled, reaching up and gently stroking her cheek, even as Jasper climbed over them to curl up beside her. When they had adopted the small kitten, Malika had been rather annoyed by him, and then after a few days seemed to begrudgingly accept him, and now she almost acted like he was her child. Damian just laid in bed with his cats for a bit before getting up, going and fetching his breakfast from the servants who were at the door.

"Good morning, Your Imperial Majesty," she said with a smile.

Damian found himself smiling back as he accepted the tray.

"We will return in a bit to help you get ready," she told him. "Please bathe if necessary."

"I shall."

She smiled a little more and then bowed before pulling the door shut. Damian took his food and sat in the living room, eating in silence, and wondering what Jon was doing at the moment. Probably still asleep, or already being fussed over by his family. After eating, Damian went and showered, using scented body wash and shampoos, as well as shaving and making his skin smooth. When he got out, he wrapped his hair in a specific towel to keep it from getting frizzy, and moisturized his skin like crazy.  


The ceremony was scheduled for eleven, so he still had most of the morning to get ready, but with the hairstyles and makeup he wanted done, it would take just about that long. The servants returned after a bit and started getting to work, starting with his makeup, while another one moved around, cleaning up the room a bit. After a bit, Maya stopped by, chuckling as she watched the emperor being fussed over.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Damian asked, eyeing her even as he tilted his chin up to allow the servant a better angle.

"Oh, probably, but I'm not getting all glammed up like someone here, I just gotta throw on my uniform and a little makeup and I'm good to go."

Damian hummed, closing his eyes as the eyeshadow process was started.

"Is Commander Branden still attending as your plus one?"

Maya was silent for a moment. "Maybe she is?"

"I should really stop letting my generals and commanders fraternize, shouldn't I?"

Maya snorted. "Oh don't be dramatic."

"Hardly."

"Well. I'm gonna go make sure security is covered and then get ready, give a holler if you need any of us."

"I will, make sure someone checks in on Jon please?"

"Calm down, he's as excited as you are, there's no way he's not getting ready right now."

"Maya."

"I will," Maya laughed out, nudging his leg before walking away.

Damian wasn't nervous. Why would he be nervous? He has absolutely no reason to be nervous. It would be silly of him to be nervous. He knew things were going to go perfect. He knew Jon wanted this as much as he did, if not even more. And hell, if anyone tried to interrupt, he would personally discard of them before walking back and marrying Jon.

There had been, of course, protests to the wedding. A few private citizens who had been foolish enough to speak out and had been quickly silenced, as well as some churches who were bold enough to use their minimal immunity to condemn the emperor and his choices. They had been more quietly dealt with. But Damian hadn't been bothered by what people thought of his sexuality in years, and he certainly wasn't going to start now that he was the emperor. His advisors had also been less than pleased, but they were wise enough to keep their mouths shut about it, only commenting on the issues of an heir, which Damian was quick to solve for them.

It took over two hours to get all his makeup and hair styling done. His hair had been swept up into a large bun, teased and pinned in a million directions that he knew was going to drive both him and Jon absolutely insane later. But it looked good now, and that's all that mattered. His crown was weaved into the bun, partially covered, mostly just visible in the front, just an inch back from his hairline. The crown, more similar to a tiara than anything, was a simple design, a gold circlet for the most part, except the front, which has a few spire type sections, some jewels inlaid in the gold metal. This one had been made specially to go with his wedding clothes. Damian's makeup complimented his features beautifully, dark eyeshadow contrasted by a gold glitter half cut-crease and red lipstick.

After all his cosmetic things were completed, he started getting dressed. His outfit wasn't terribly complicated, but it was well fitting and well made. The pants were charcoal grey, tight, showing off his muscled legs. The shoes were simple black slip on shoes, nothing fancy. His top was white, long sleeved with a slight collar, buttoned down the front. The front went down just past his pelvis, then fanned out in a high-low style, the back reaching down towards his knees. The buttons were a silvery white, and there was intricate golden embroidery along the button placket, as well as the collar, the bottom hem and the sleeve cuffs. It was tailored perfectly, without baggy areas, and perfectly accentuating his body shape.  


An ornate black leather belt was added, cinching in on his waist a little tighter and making him look that much smaller. In one ear was a diamond stud with a small dangling chain and diamond, in the other was a matching similar stud and chain, but this one was attached by delicate gold chains to a small filigree cuff that sat just under the crest of his ear. He had an emerald necklace as well, but that was mostly hidden by his shirt. After the servants were done, they grinned to each other and stepped back, bowing slightly and motioning him towards a mirror. He turned to it and blinked at himself in silence. It wasn't like this was the most decorated and gussied up he'd ever been, but this time it was so much more important. He found a small smile forming on his lips as he turned slightly to look at himself fully.

This was it. He was getting married.

When had marriage become such an important thing to him?

After a bit, Jason appeared to fetch him. He was wearing a more traditional suit, but somehow made it more military. He walked in without knocking and then immediately screeched to a halt when he saw Damian.

"Holy shit."

Damian chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. Jason cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“You just look really nice.”

“Thank you,” Damian responded, standing from where he had been reading. Jason glanced around.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. Is everything ready?”

“Yup. We’re just waiting for you now,” Jason told him, turning and grabbing the door.

“Have you seen Jon?”

“No, but Kathy said he’s waiting very impatiently.”

Damian smiled softly, that sounded like Jon. The ceremony was taking place in the gardens, chairs and decorations had been put up yesterday while Jon was gone with his family. The party after would take place in the courtyard, and decorations had also been put up there. Damian had been busy yesterday.

Jason led him through the palace, not many words being exchanged between them. When they reached the gardens, Damain could see the small crowd of people that had been allowed in, but he couldn’t pick out Jon in all of it. Maya, waiting near the back, saw them coming and quickly signaled to the officiant to have everyone quiet down, they did so, the few people remaining standing sat, and then Damian was able to see Jon. They spotted each other at the same time and grinned, Jon picking a hand up to wave lightly.

“Alright, let us go sit down, and then you’re good to go,” Jason said, squeezing his arm and grinning.

“Thank you, Todd.”

Jason smiled and ducked away, hurrying to the front and sitting down next to Roy and Lian. Maya turned to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling his attention directly to her.

“You look fucking amazing, and if he doesn’t cry I’m gonna walk up there and beat his ass,” she told him, looking completely serious.  


Damian laughed, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, Maya, but I do not believe that will be necessary.”

“It better not.”

Maya, wearing a more formal version of the official military uniform, turned and followed Jason, stopping to sit beside a blonde that Damian knew was Kathy. He chuckled to himself, then turned to one of the servants who had followed him over. She quickly fixed a strand of hair before stepping back, letting a photographer get a few photos. Damian turned back towards Jon. With a nod to another servant, the small band began playing music, and the guests stood, bowing or curtseying as Damian walked past. There were many western customs he had completely done away with, stripping the western wedding to its barest form and then carefully intertwining it with Kryptonian customs. After many hours spent thinking about this simple ceremony, he had finally been content with what he had come up with. And now here they were.

As he walked closer, he took this opportunity to examine his soon-to-be-husband. He had been dressed in clothes that were reportedly traditional for Kryptonian weddings, in the colors of the House of El. His shirt was dark blue, long sleeved and snug around his arms, the collar was stiff, but left unbuttoned and flared away from his throat, the shirt had no apparent buttons in the front, and ended just past his hips. His pants were a light grey, and he had short military style boots. He was wearing a deep red cape, one that he used to wear so much, but had stopped not long after moving to Earth. Jon’s hair had been styled just slightly, the black messy locks given a little extra curl, and pushed back out of his face a bit, and on top of his head sat a silver circlet crown, his crown from Krypton. He had a slight bit of makeup on, but nothing compared to Damian. He was grinning widely at Damian, eyes flickering over his form, doing his own look over, and maybe his eyes were getting a little watery.

He stepped forwards when Damian reached the last row of chairs, Jon’s family on the right, what Damian considered to be his on the left. He held out his hand, and Damian slid his into it, letting Jon pull him forwards into a quick kiss.

“You look amazing,” Jon murmured, a hand finding its way to Damian’s waist. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Damian whispered back, smiling at the man. “You are so handsome.”

Jon chuckled a bit, stepping back and turning to the officiant.  


The wedding was simple, it was quick, there were a few customs Damian was obligated to keep, such as the officiant’s opening remarks, his addressing of the couple, the vows, those types of things he wouldn’t have been able to get away with. But interlaced with all that, he had added some of the kryptonian customs, such as the parents of each getting up and giving a small speech of blessing for the relationship. Kal was in between crying and giving Damian nasty looks the whole time. Jason and Roy, who were representing Damian’s family, were a mix of tears and laughter, but were obviously quite happy for the couple. After they exchanged their rings, two toned yellow and white gold bands, they followed the Kryptonian tradition of handfasting, tying Damian’s right to Jon’s left. The ribbon they used was a form of woven kryptonite, the same strand that Jon’s whip was made from, an intentional decision, suggested by Jon, so that any injuries caused on Damian by the rubbing of the material would be mirrored on him. The officiant gave a few more remarks, then happily announced them married. Damian stepped in, tugging Jon to him by their bound hands and pressed up, kissing his husband. It was soft, a gentle lingering kiss full of promises of the future. Someone, Damian suspected it was Jason, started cheering and then the rest of their guests followed suit quickly.

Only a few moments later, he and Jon were stood off to the side, everyone having funnelled past on their way to the courtyard, congratulating them as they passed. The last people, Maya and Kathy had just left, and Jon turned to look at Damian, tugging on him lightly to pull his attention.

“Hey.”

“Yes, love?”

Damian hadn’t stopped smiling since he first saw Jon. He glanced up and felt it only widen when he found Jon smiling down at him, some of his lipstick smudged on Jon’s mouth.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I’m so happy, because I get to spend the rest of my life with you,” Jon told him, tugging him around so they were fully facing each other, Jon’s free hand coming up to gently push a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Sap,” Damian said with a laugh, gently pushing his shoulder.

Jon just laughed, kissing him a few times.

“You’re gonna smudge my lipstick,” Damian complained, pushing him off when Jon tried to deepen the kiss.

“Oh so now your makeup is more important than kissing me? I’ll keep that in mind.”

Damian huffed in annoyance, lightly shoving him before turning and starting towards the gardens, pulling him with.

“Hey I did have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Well two, I guess. Am I taking your last name?”

“Well it’s up to you. I can’t take yours, because I’m the Emperor. If you would like to, I would happily arrange that.”

Jon hummed, slipping their fingers together. “And what’s going on with my title, since I’m Prince El now, what uh. . . what’s it going to change to.”

Damian frowned, glancing at him. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You hadn’t?” Jon asked, eyebrow raising. “I’m shocked!”

“Oh shush. We can figure that out later,” Damian told him as they reached the gardens.

Jon just laughed, squeezing his hand as they walked over to the table where they were to sit for the reception. Jason, Roy, and Lian sat at one half, Kal, Kon and Lin on the other. Damian and Jon sat between the two families, bound hands resting in Damian’s lap as they began talking and laughing.  


It was a good day, Damian had married a wonderful man, and he was happy. He was so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Happy husband's!  
> I took great pleasure it inventing their wedding clothes and wedding ceremony, okay? Let me have this.
> 
> As many of you can probably predict, next chapter is the honeymoon chapter, so there's gonna be a decent amount of smut.  
> Honestly if you're still here by chapter 12, you're either really chill with smut or really good at scrolling past it so this is all the warning you're getting. 
> 
> Thanks for reading as always! I hope everyone is staying healthy and sane during these insane times, and if you aren't healthy (and reading my fic as comfort, aw), I hope you recover well!
> 
> See you next week!


	13. An Idyll Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello frens!  
> Nothing new to report for this chapter! 
> 
> Please enjoy!  
> (Oh, also, remember this is a smut chapter so have fun-)  
> ((I know some of you will))

Damian giggled as Jon tugged him around the corner of the corridor and back to their room, still attached by the wrists. He wasn't quite sure how they were supposed to get undressed and such things, since Jon had been pretty adamant they had to stay bound for at least a full day. 24 hours. They were only ten hours in. They had been celebrating and dancing all evening, still in their wedding clothes though significantly less neater now. Damian was a little drunk, nothing horrid, but enough that the edges of his vision were starting to swim and he was giggling like a fool.  


Jon hit the door, bumping his back into it and pulling Damian to him, leaning down not to kiss him, but gently nibble his skin, at his ear, hands trying to find buttons on his shirt. Jon was also a little drunk.  


"Wait wait," Damian said with a small giggle, easily pushing Jon's hands down.

"What?"

"We need to take off our makeup and get my hair down," Damian said, leaning his chest against Jon's.

Jon pouted down at him.

"And then.  _ Then _ you can fuck me as hard as you want," Damian promised, pecking his lips quickly.

Jon grinned, bending and throwing Damian over his shoulder easily before turning and walking through the door. Damian yelped in alarm, grabbing at Jon's shirt with his free hand, only to be thwarted by the cape. Jon locked the door behind them, and then turned, starting towards the bathroom.

"Hello Malika, Jasper," Damian greeted as they passed the cats, waving lightly.

Jasper meowed and started to run after them, while Malika just blinked. Jon kicked the bedroom door shut behind them, and Damian lost sight of the cats, twisting instead to make sure Jon was heading to the bathroom. He was, stopping in front of the mirror and setting Damian down.

"Hair first?" Jon asked, lifting their bound hand towards Damian's hair.

Together they slowly, carefully, took out Damian's hair, placing the pins on the bathroom counter, and then the crown next to it too. Damian carefully brushed his hair out, but there were still sections of it that twisted in weird directions. He pulled it back into a ponytail and then tugged Jon over to the cabinet where he kept his face washing supplies, grabbing a few things before beginning to wash his makeup off. Jon started copying him, their tied hands just resting on the counter.  


"Most humans have middle names, right?" Jon asked randomly, watching Damian rinsing his face.

"I suppose."

"What if I just make El into my middle name, and Al Ghul into my last?"

"If that's what you would like, love."

Jon went silent for a bit, following Damian to get a towel so he could dry his face.  


"I think I'd like that."  


Damian looked over, smiling at his husband (it made him grin a little more to think that), who looked serious and contemplative.

"Then we'll do that."

"Great."

After they had both appropriately cleaned their faces, Jon tugged Damian to the bed. It shouldn't have felt any different, after all they had fucked countless times now, it was odd for them to go a few days without at least giving the other a blow job or something. But it did seem different, more important, special almost. Damian couldn't quite explain it, even as he pressed to Jon in a hungry kiss, his body thrumming with need.

"How are we gonna do this?" He asked after a moment, he was straddling Jon, who was sat back against the headboard.

Jon blinked at him, eyebrow arching. "The same way we usually do?"

Damian huffed, tugging his right arm back sharply, causing Jon to wince as the ribbon pulled at his skin.

"Okay, I get your point. We can undo it to get dressed and undressed, but it has to go back on immediately after. We can't even shower without the other until we officially untie it, which requires the minister."

Damian knew this information. He had been told in detail about this ceremony. There was a slight thrill about being so physically bound to his husband, making it clear for everyone to see that they were attached.

"But," Jon started, fingers creeping up Damian's thigh to the waistband of his pants. "It's not like we couldn't have sex without taking it off."

"You're going to tell me you'd be satisfied with that? With me being partially clothed, no skin on skin contact?"

Jon scowled, and that was Damian's answer. He chuckled and reached for the binding, finding the knot and starting to undo it. Once it was off, Jon wasted no time in undoing his shirt and pushing him to the bed to hurriedly bite marks into Damian's skin, marking him without care for what could be seen. Damian tried to feign annoyance, but in reality he would have laid there and taken it, letting Jon turn him into a bruised mess because he loved it. However, they had a pledge to uphold.

"Jon," he scolded gently, pushing at the man's shoulders. "Let me get your shirt off, you horny dork."

Jon looked up at him, pupils already blowing wide, he pouted, but sat up enough that Damian could pull off his shirt and throw it across the room before fully shrugging off his own, sending it after Jon's. Normally he would care about making sure they didn't wrinkle. But again, more pressing matters. He sat up, grabbing the silver fabric that tied them together and held out his wrist. Jon grabbed his hand, and they worked together to tie it back, as close as they could to how it was originally done.

"Now can I continue?" Jon asked, eyeing the fading red marks on Damian's skin.  


"No," Damian said, shoving his freehand up into Jon's hair and pulling him into a fierce kiss.

He pushed Jon back against the headboard, climbing into his lap, Jon's free hand came up to rest on his hip, fingers digging into the bone. Damian forced their bound hands up against the headboard, Jon grabbing it for a little extra balance as he hungrily kissed Damian, all interest in sweet and slow thrown out the window in their need, biting lips and kissing roughly. Jon pulled away to suck marks into Damian's neck, and he let him, pushing up on his knees slightly to encourage Jon to move down his chest.  


Things like this was completely natural for them, they moved with each other without thinking or asking, every step made together, in silent agreement. It didn't take long, and then Damian was riding Jon, fucking himself on his husbands dick like his life depended on it, noises of pleasuring falling from both shamelessly. They had nothing to hide. They never had. The alcohol was still making Damian slightly giddy and dizzy, but he was well aware of his actions, would remember them tomorrow, maybe a little dulled, but still here.

"Fuck fuck, fuckkkkk," Damian hissed out, unable to decide between gripping the headboard or Jon's hair.

Jon's free hand was on Damian's waist, helping keep him steady, but doing a horrible job of it, as he was more focused on just watching Damian, watching Damian trying to get himself off, knowing Jon would follow shortly or do what he had to in order to chase his own release.  


"God you're gorgeous," Jon murmured, surging up to quickly kiss Damian, making him stop, sitting full on Jon's hips, his cock fully buried.

Here, Damian's hand went to Jon's hair, gripping it tightly as they messily made out for a second.  


"Keep going, Damian, you're so close," Jon murmured, pulling away.

He was, he could feel the tight pinching in his stomach, the nearing wave of pleasure. He pushed Jon back, off of him, so he could focus. A few more rise and falls and he was whimpering in pleasure, spilling all over Jon's stomach. Jon didn't wait, didn't let Damian relax, just immediately took charge, grabbing Damian and flipping him over, beginning to roughly fucking him. Damian cried out, oversensitive from his orgasm, grabbing for something to grip with his freehand, finding Jon's supporting arm and gripping it tightly, fingernails digging into skin. Jon's teeth were on his skin, biting into his shoulder  _ hard _ and he wasn't stopping, wasn't slowing down, movements harsh and rough, but so good.

It occurred to him suddenly that Jon had already come once and was  _ already _ hard again. He just whimpered weakly, body going limp, letting Jon do whatever the hell he liked, because Jon would never do anything that would hurt him, or at least not seriously.

"God you're gorgeous," Jon muttered senselessly, lightly kissing and sucking on his shoulder, and had Damian been more coherent, he would have realized Jon had actually broken skin.

"I love you Dami. So perfect and amazing. Fuck you're so hot."

Damian cried out, that last word accentuated by a sharp deep thrust, he squeezed Jon's arm tightly, his senses beginning to come back now to realize just how sensitive he was.

"Just a little more," Jon promised him, quickly kissing him, and then his cheeks. "I'm almost- fuck!"

Damian tilted his head back, giving a sharp keening noise as Jon picked up pace just slightly, and then gave a muffled groan - muffled by Damian's skin - as he came inside of Damian again, filling his insides with his semen, fucking him a little through it. The noises were absolutely obscene. Then he slowly pulled out, gently kissing Damian a few more times before collapsing on the bed beside him, both just breathing heavy for a moment. Damian, the more coherent one, spoke first.

"We need. . . We need to clean up."

Jon mumbled something unintelligible, rolling onto his side and stretching out just enough that he could lazily kiss Damian. They laid there for a bit, tired and sweaty, exchanging soft kisses. Damian slowly became aware of a stinging pain in his shoulder and pulled away, looking down to see the lightly bleeding bite mark.

"You-" he blinked at it, then at Jon. "Oh my God."

Jon just grinned sheepishly, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.

"Jesus if that scars…."

"If that scars, so what? Everyone will know you're mine. I've marked you."

Damian was silent for a moment, considering this. Thinking about it, he liked the idea of that a lot more than he should have.

"Come on, get up lazy bones. I'm cleaning up and since we're fucking tied together, you gotta come with."

Jon groaned, looking over at him, considering his options here. Finally he just scooped Damian up, moving them to the bathroom in a blur, setting him down in the shower. Damian winced at the sudden movements, and the uncomfortable feeling of having stuff leaking out of him.

"You really had to cum inside me twice?" Damian muttered as he turned on the shower.  


"Are you complaining?"

"Maybe a little."

Jon rolled his eyes, leaning against the cold tile wall, watching Damian as he slowly washed, his arm extended to give his husband free use of both hands, his hair pulled up with the hairband he kept in the shower specifically for this purpose. After they had both cleaned up (and bandaged Damian's shoulder), Jon scooped Damian up again, carrying him back to bed.

"Did we get the sheets dirty?" Damian asked tiredly, head against Jon's neck.

"I don't know."

They ended up changing the sheets, working together. The handfasting was slightly annoying, but Damian really didn't mind. Finally, everything sorted and both exhausted, they climbed into bed, Damian collapsing on top of Jon's chest.  


"Hey," Jon murmured, arm wrapped around Damian's waist.

Damian hummed in response, barely picking up his head.

"I love you," Jon murmured, gently kissing Damian's head.

"I know. I love you too."

Jon hummed happily, and then he was asleep. Between the space of one breath and the next. Damian didn't take long to follow, exhausted from the day, and from the sex.

The next morning he woke up, laying on his stomach, arm pulled out and draped awkwardly over Jon's side, who was laying on his side, back to Damian. Damian blinked at him sleepily, then just closed his eyes, dozing back off. When he woke up again, it was because Jon was moving him, adjusting so he was pressed up against Damian's back.

"Good morning," Damian mumbled, tugging Jon's arm around him a little tighter.

"Morning," Jon murmured back, using his free hand to push Damian's hair out of the way and then press his nose against his spine. "Sleep well?"

"I think so."

Jon hummed and then went silent again.

There was no rush to their day, no time in which they had to be leaving or doing anything. Damian could just lay in bed all day if he wanted, and it sounded amazing. So he did. He just closed his eyes and let himself fall back to sleep again. He lost track of how many times he woke up, and fell asleep, and then woke up again before Jon started getting restless, shifting a little more, fingers starting to stroke and tap against his skin.

"Do you need something, love?"

"I need to pee."

Damian laughed into his pillow a bit, glancing back at Jon, then rolling to face him.  


"Do you?"

"Yeah. Like, pretty bad. But I didn't want to wake you," Jon said with a sheepish grin.

Damian just laughed again, smiling fondly at his husband. "Alright, let's go then. I don't think I can sleep anymore anyway."

They got out of bed and went to the bathroom, Damian leaning against the counter and rubbing his eyes with his free hand while Jon relieved himself. After Damian had also used the bathroom, they went back to their room, pulling on some pants and then going to greet the cats. Jasper seemed quite annoyed at them for having shut him out, but Malika was well used to their activities and just rubbed against Damian affectionately.

They ended up grabbing one of Jon's kryptonian books, laying on the sofa together, Jon trying to teach Damian to read kryptonese. They had already been working on his spoken dialect, but admittedly, had Jon not grown up there, he would understand the difficulties of reading it. Jon was a very patient teacher, while Damian was a significantly less patient student. After a while, their breakfast came, they ate, then worked together to pack, before finally getting dressed for the day, and heading out to go find Jon's family, as they were also leaving today and Jon wanted to say goodbye. They found them in Kal’s room, chatting while Kal finished packing.

Jon had told Damian, as they were sat in the reception yesterday, about the talk he and Kon-El had, how Kon had apologized and how things had been better since then. Damian was quite happy for him, he knew how much stress their bad relationship had caused his husband. He could tell how relieved Jon was to have begun patching things up with his brother.  


Lin was the first one to notice them, as the door was already open. She was wearing a loose flowy shirt and a pair of tan pants, as well as shoes with a slight heel. She grinned and waved.

“Hello, you two!” She called to them cheerfully in English.

“Good morning, Lin,” Jon greeted with a smile.

“How was your evening?” she asked with a sly smile, arching an eyebrow.

Jon chuckled lightly. “Good,” he responded, squeezing Damian’s hand lightly.

If by good he meant Damian’s entire body hated him this particular morning, then yes. It was good.

“Well, we’re just packing up, waiting on the old man.”

“Oh hush you,” Kal grumbled, glancing up and offering the couple a half smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Kal,” Damian greeted, leaning into his husband a bit more.

“So, what’s next for Krypton?” Jon asked, sitting on the sofa and tugging Damian down into his lap, arms around his waist.  


“Well, it depends how much the Lanterns are going to push us,” Kon told him, turning to face his younger brother. “We’ve pulled back our exploration teams, but they’re still not backing off.”

“Shit, really? Have you talked directly to the guardians?”

“That’s my next step once we get back.”

“They may not be fully aware that you’ve even stopped advancements,” Damian inputted. “The Green Lantern’s have been fairly short staffed recently, especially following Jordan’s defection.”

“That may be the case, but the sector lanterns have been pushing us and it’s infuriating.”

"Yes, I understand that. I would advise directly contacting the guardians. The Lanterns are powerful, it's best not to piss them off."

"Because you've done such a good job of that," Kon said with a chuckle.

"I've had some reparations to do since Ra's, but we've made our agreements with them, and we uphold our end of them," Damian told him with a shrug.

"Well, we were doing that for a while."

"Kon, we've talked about this," Kal grumbled, shoving a few things into his bag.

"Indeed we have. And yet it still does not make sense."

"Can we not?" Kal turned to his eldest son, scowling. "Can we not do this here? Please."

They glared at each other, then Kal snorted and turned away, putting a few things up. Lin gave Damian and Jon a half smile half grimace, shrugging lightly.

"Anyway, you two are traveling right? Where are you going? What is it like?!" Lin questioned, walking over to sit near them.

"Aitutaki," Damian told her. "It's an island, it will be quite beautiful this time of year."

"An island?"

Damian gave her an amused look.

"It's a section of land surrounded by water, usually in the ocean. This one is part of the Cook Islands, which surround this beautiful lagoon, which is just part of the ocean, separated from it by higher sections of sand," he explained.  


"Ah. Interesting. Your planet is quite beautiful, I could probably spend months here and not get used to it."

"I can tell you truthfully, that is exactly the case," Jon told her with a smile.

"Okay, there we go," Kal said, finally closing his bag and turning to them.

He glanced at Damian and Jon and scowled slightly, but then glanced around.

"Are you two ready?" Kal asked, looking at Lin and Kon.

"Whenever you are, Father."

"We'll see you off," Damian said, standing and twirling in place so their arms weren't twisted anymore.  


Servants came and fetched the Kryptonian's bags, and the five of them started making their way down to the airfield.  


"So you asked what we were going to be doing, what about you two?" Kon asked. He was walking beside Jon.

"Oh, well. We're taking our trip, and then . . . What, finishing with the rebels?" Jon asked, looking over to his husband.

"Mainly that," Damian confirmed. "I'm sure things will come up, but just ruling the kingdom, I suppose."

"Sounds wildly peaceful," Kon said with a chuckle.

"We'll see, won't we."

They reached the airfield, and Kon turned to Jon, hugging him tightly. Damian did his best not to make it awkward, keeping his arm extended for the two to hug.

"Keep in touch, Jon," Kon said softly.  


Damian looked down at the ground, trying to mind his own business.

"I will, Kon. Good luck with Krypton."

Kon stepped back, reaching up to ruffle Jon's hair before walking over to Damian, holding out his hand. Damian clasped it tightly.

"You'll take good care of my brother, won't you?" Kon said, grinning light-heartedly.

"I'll certainly try."

Kon stepped back, walking over to the ship. Lin slipped forwards, quickly hugging Jon.

"I'm glad we got to spend more time together, Jon! May you and Damian have many happy years together."

"Thank you, Lin," Jon chuckled out.

Lin stepped in front of Damian, curtseying. Damian bowed in return.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Emperor Al Ghul."

"And you, Princess El."

Lin turned and walked off to join Kon by the ship, the man slipping an arm around her waist and pulling the shorter woman against his side. Kal looked at the two of them for a few seconds in silence, arms crossed.

"Father?" Jon asked, eyebrow raising.

Kal sighed softly, walking up to Damian first.

"Damian, it is no secret I do not like you much," Kal started.

"I am aware."

"But, Jon is happy with you, and I can only trust that he knows you better than I do." Kal offered his hand, and Damian shook it firmly. "Treasure him dearly, so you do not lose him like I did."

Damian decided not to answer past a slight nod, pulling his hand back. Kal turned and hugged Jon tightly, holding his son for a bit, and when he did speak it was in kryptonese. Damian picked up a few words, but not enough to make sense. Then Kal kissed Jon's forehead, stepping back and smiling at him sadly. Then he too left and joined the others by the ship. They waved and called goodbye, and then the Kryptonian's left, boarding their ship. Damian pulled Jon back, away from the ship, turning and leading him out of danger.  


"What'd he say to you?" Damian asked, looking up at Jon as they walked.

"Just some bullshit. It's not important."

Damian hummed and decided to not press. He could probably get it out of Jon later if he really wanted.

They went back to their room, doing one last check to make sure they have everything they need for their trip before letting their servants take the bags to load them. They hung out in their room for a bit before getting the cats, Jasper mostly, and taking them to Lian, who had promised to take care of them while they were gone. She was in her room with her tutor, working on her language skills when they knocked.

“Hi, Chu!” She exclaimed, grinning at Jon who had Jasper in his arms.

“Hello, Lian! How are you?”

“I’m good! Come in!”  


She stepped back, letting them in. Malika was following Damian closely, and almost like she knew what was going on, she went and plopped herself down in a sunbeam. They spent the next few minutes explaining to Lian how to care for Jasper and Malika, and then the girl hugged her two uncle’s goodbye and returned to her study.

Their next stop was with the officiant, to get their hands officially untied, but if Damian slipped the ribbon into his pocket, no one needed to know, now did they. He actually hadn’t minded the handfasting that much, but he could see it getting very annoying when they needed to actually do things and weren’t just laying around all day.

Then finally, they said their goodbyes and got on their plane, beginning the long flight to the Cook Islands.

* * *

“This is . . . gorgeous.”

“I told you."

Jon looked over to Damian, smiling lightly. They were standing on the back veranda of their bungalow, which was elevated over the water. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the water. They had arrived not long ago, and the time difference had thrown Jon for a major loop, but he knew the sun would help him adjust. Damian looked away, yawning, then stretching backwards, popping his back.

"Should we take a nap?" Jon suggested, walking over and pulling Damian to his chest.

"If I go to bed now, I'm just going to sleep the whole day away. I want to go for a swim."

Jon hummed, kissing the side of Damian's head.

"Whatever you want, darling."

Damian turned in his arms, reaching up and slipping his arms around Jon's neck, pulling him down into a light kiss. Then he pulled away and walked inside the bungalow. Jon smiled after him and looked back over the lagoon. The bungalow was fairly secluded, enough that they had a good amount of privacy. The decorations inside were fairly simple, more functional than anything. After a moment, Jon turned and followed Damian inside, finding him stood in front of a mirror, braiding his hair.

"Are you going to swim with me?" Damian asked, looking over as Jon sat on the huge bed.

Jon shrugged. "I'm not particularly good at swimming."

Damian's eyebrows went up. "Wait. You. . . You do know how to swim, right?"

"Yes!!"

"Uh huh…"

"I did!!! I learned when I knew we were coming to an island."

"And how exactly did you learn?"

"Kathy kinda . . . Taught me."

Damian turned to look at him, tying off the braid.

"Did she just mentally show you how swimming works?"

"No! . . . Okay, yes."

Damian laughed, shaking his head. "You dork. Come on, I'll teach you. It's not terribly hard."

"Every time you say that, the exact opposite turns out to be true."

And yet, a few minutes later, Jon found himself preparing to jump into the lagoon after Damian, who was easily treading water.

"Come on, don't be a baby," Damian taunted, swimming backwards a ways, grinning at Jon.

"Every time I get in situations like this, I regret it not ten minutes later."

But Jon jumped, creating a splash as he hit the water, sinking a bit before hitting the sandy bottom and pushing back to the top. Damian was suddenly right behind him, grabbing under his shoulders and helping hold him up. They spent the next few hours teaching Jon how to properly swim and then practicing it, sometimes climbing up onto the steps of their bungalow and sitting there, relaxing in the warm morning sun, sometimes just swimming and enjoying the cool salty water. Jon learned pretty quickly not to drink it. Around lunch time, they stumbled up onto the veranda, rinsing off in the outdoor shower before heading inside and changing. After they got their lunch, something simple and fruity, they crashed into bed on top of each other, falling asleep almost immediately.

The next few days were blissful, they spent their mornings out in the sun, whether that was swimming, or sitting on the beach, they’d come in about midday to eat lunch, and then spend a few hours inside, out of the bright sun, and then around dinner time, they’d go back out, often staying out long enough to watch the sunset.

Today, they were sitting on the beach, Jon had fallen asleep in the sun, while Damian was sat further back, under the shade of some trees in a hammock. They often encountered other people, who hurried to get out of the way or scurried off, but today had been blissfully quiet. Damian was reading, aware that Jon had fallen asleep. He was like a cat, laying in the sun and just falling asleep in it. He’d often stumble back over to Damian later, his skin burning hot, yet he never got sunburnt. They were about ten feet apart, close enough to carry a conversation if they wanted, but far enough that Damian hadn’t noticed that Jon had woken up, until he spoke.

“Are we having kids?”

Damian looked up from his book, looking over to Jon, who pushed up on an elbow to look over at him. He was laying on a large beach towel on the sand. They looked at each other for a moment, neither speaking.

“Why do you ask?”

“I dunno, I was just thinking about it.” Jon shrugged and laid back down. “Thinkin’ bout having a little tiny you running around.”

Damian snorted, looking back at his book. “Do you want to have kids?”

“Of course I do. But do you?”

“I’m more or less expected to,” Damian confessed, trying to find where he had lost his place in  _ The Brothers Karamazov _ .

“Yeah, but do you  _ want  _ to.”

“ . . . Not right now, but certainly eventually,” Damian said after a pause.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up to find Jon standing over him, smirking. The kryptonian leaned down and gently pecked his lips.

“Just let me know, and I’ll arrange it with Krypton.”

Damian found himself smiling, and he stretched up to kiss Jon again.

“Here, hold this.”

A sandy towel was plopped down on Damian’s chest, and then he was being scooped up in Jon’s arms without warning. Damian yelped lightly, immediately reaching for Jon and throwing his arms around the man’s neck, yet keeping a tight hold on his book the whole time. Jon chuckled, adjusting Damian so he was resting on Jon’s hips.

“I can walk, you know,” Damian grumbled.

Jon’s skin was burning hot.

“I know.”

And he smelled like seaspray and sweet fruit.

“Then why are you carrying me?”

His powerful muscles flexed under Damian as he started walking along the boardwalk back to their bungalow.

“Because I can.”

Damian didn’t have an argument to that. Jon carried him inside, easily snapping the lock behind them, and then carried him into the bedroom, dropping Damian down onto the large bed.

“Jon,” Damian said after he had recovered from hitting the mattress fairly hard.

“Yes, my husband?”

Damian sighed, setting aside his book and tossing the towel to the floor, he just reached up and pulled his hair from it’s ponytail and set his sunglasses on top of his book.

“Come here.”

Jon, who had been lingering on the edge of the bed, grinned and crawled over to Damian, laying between his legs and beginning to gently kiss him. Damian had learned recently that prolonged sun-exposure tends to make Jon . . . well, rather horny. And Jon had been laying in the sun for nearly two hours. Damian didn’t even think Jon was aware of the connection, but let’s just say Damian had been fairly sore these past few days

Even as Damian was thinking these things, Jon had started slipping lower, kissing Damian’s neck, then down his chest, tugging off the shorts he was wearing, and then lavishing kisses all over Damian’s hips and thighs. Damian held back a groan as Jon sucked on the sensitive skin at the junction of his hip and leg, and Jon didn’t like that much. Jon loved it when he was loud and messy, and it only served to egg him on when Damian withheld his noises.

“Damian,” Jon scolded gently, right before lightly licking Damian’s cock.

Damian gasped at that, eyes snapping down from the ceiling to Jon, who was smirking up at him. He watched as Jon’s eyebrow gently arched, a silent prompt.

“What-” Damian paused here to take a breath. “How do you want me?”

Jon smirked even more, moving up to lightly kiss Damian.

“I want you to beg.”

Damian swallowed, letting his eyes close as Jon kissed his cheek, then lightly nibbled on his ear.

“I want to see the mighty emperor, down on his knees, begging for me to fuck him senseless.”

A small whimper escaped Damian, even just thinking about it. Jon chuckled darkly, pecked Damian’s lips, and then moved away, sitting on the other side of the bed and picking up a book. Damian stared at him in shock.

“Excuse you?” He exclaimed.

“Hmm?” Jon glanced over, barely disturbed.

Damian just openly gaped at him. “Excuse you?!”

“Do you have something you’d like to ask for?” Jon asked, eyebrow arching again.

Damian stared at him, silence falling over them. Never before had Jon started something and not finished it. Damian hadn’t thought he was capable of that much self control. Jon smirked lightly and looked back down at his book. Damian stood up, huffing and pulled on his shorts again before walking away, out to the veranda. Two can play that game.

He expected Jon to follow. After all, when Jon wanted to fuck him, Jon did it, again, poor self control. But it wasn’t directly mentioned again. Jon would occasionally glance at him, almost expectantly, but Damian was determined to see how long Jon could wait. He didn’t bring it up or pursue it. It wasn’t mentioned at lunch, or even during the time they spent inside. It wasn’t even hinted at over supper, or their evening swim, and Jon barely seemed disturbed by any of this. They were getting into bed when Damian decided he’d had enough. He had, despite appearances, been absolutely consumed by this, all day. What game was Jon playing? What did he want from Damian? Jon was laying down, starting to get comfortable, when Damian spoke.

“You’re serious.”

Jon looked up, looking confused. “What?”

“You’re just going to bed?”

“Yes? We usually do after sunset. . . “

Damian snorted, shaking his head. “This is very unlike you.”

Jon stared at him for a moment, then he shrugged, setting his head down and rolling onto his stomach. “You didn’t beg.”

It seemed like that was the end of it, as Jon closed his eyes and settled in to sleep. Damian just stared at him in the almost darkness for a bit. Then, without thinking, he got up and walked around the bed, kneeling in front of Jon.

“Beloved.”

Jon smirked, opening an eye. The moonlight was casting slight shadows on his face. Damian swallowed, reaching out to put his hands on the bed, still on his knees.

“Jon.”

His eyebrow went up again, and he was still smirking. Damian grit his teeth. Damn that man.

“Would you-” Damian hesitated. Fuck he hated putting Jon in this much power. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Jon asked, closing his eyes again.

Silence stretched between them. Jon was so still that Damian was worried he had actually fallen asleep.

“Fuck me, please,” he barely whispered out.  


A smile stretched over Jon’s lips. Slowly he sat up, looking down at Damian, who was still on his knees beside the bed, blinking up at Jon now.

“What was that?” Jon asked, that smile growing into a smirk as he leaned forwards slightly.

“You-” Damian felt a spike of annoyance. Then he took a breath, and repeated himself, louder. “Fuck me, please.”

“See, was that so hard?” Jon asked.

Damian decided it was in his best interest to not respond, and he turned out to be right, as Jon leaned forwards, kissing him deeply, and then pulling him up. Damian let himself be pulled around, let Jon press him down into the bed, let him kiss and mark all along his neck and chest.

“Now, what exactly do you want me to do?” Jon asked, practically purring as he nibbled at Damian’s ear.

Oh Damian was so giving him hell for this later.

“Jon. Fuck me.” This was edging on a command.

Jon chuckled deeply, gently brushing Damian’s hair back. “Hmm. . . getting a little bossy are we?”

Another deep breath, forcing his body to relax. Then Damian reached up, hooking his arms around Jon’s neck and pulling him down. If Jon wanted to play dirty, Damian could play along.

“Please, I need you to fuck me. So hard. Take me, make me yours. Please.”

Jon growled in his ear, and then Damian was being pushed onto his stomach, and Jon’s fingers were in his ass. Damian smirked into the sheets. Jon could think he was in control, for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: here, you can have a little plot. As a treat. We'd rather you have some plot in the house then anywhere else.   
> (Yes I just quoted John Mulaney, sue me)
> 
> So! This is my only warning for my consistent readers.  
> Next chapter. Is rough.  
> If you would like a nice sweet ending, then don't go any further.   
> If you would like to finish the story how god(me) intended, then you will have to read it to completion.  
> It's up to you, but I was informed I needed to warn y'all  
> Have fun with that vague information for a week!


	14. The World Turns Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry

It was a good morning.

Damian had woken up to birds chirping, Jon's warm body pressed to his back, and soft sunlight filtering in through the windows of the cabin. It was a good morning, and he had no idea that the day would not end the same way.

"Good morning," Jon murmured, lightly nuzzling Damian's neck, and then kissing it.

"Morning," Damian murmured, shifting back and pressing a little tighter into Jon.

"Sleep well?"

"Wonderfully."

"Good."

Jon was still lightly kissing his neck, fingers gently stroking against his stomach. Damian just hummed and closed his eyes, bringing his hand up and intertwining his fingers with his husbands, their wedding bands clinking together softly. Jon chuckled lightly, finally laying his head back down, and just laying there next to Damian.

"Hazim is awake."

Damian hummed again, a change in the slight inflection at the end turning it into a question. Jon was silent for a moment.

"Amelia is going to him."

Another hum and Damian just shifted positions, pressing his face into the pillow a little more.

It had been three years since their wedding. Almost two years since the birth of their son, Hazim. He was their biological son, a perfected blend of Kryptonian and human DNA, giving him the highest advantage over any other living member of either species. Jon had traveled to Krypton for Hazim's birth, staying there for several months to make sure he was healthy before coming back with their son. They had worried about Damian and Hazim bonding, since children born through ectogenesis often imprinted on the first people they met, which had been Jon and Kon, but after a few fussy days, he settled down and seemed to adapt very well.

They had another, older child, Amelia. She had been adopted by them when Hazim was only one, having been found by Jon and his men after they raided an old rebel base. She had been orphaned by an accident, and run away from her current guardian, an old woman who claimed to be her aunt, but according to Amelia was not a relative. Jon immediately took pity on her and had brought her back with him, with the intention of seeing if they could find any actual living family. After months of searching, and finding nothing, Jon and Amelia had already attached to each other. It didn't take Jon long to convince Damian to adopt the girl. It took longer for Amelia to warm up to Damian, as she was 13, old enough to know who he was and the rumors about him.

It had been quite amusing to hear what all the public had actually conjured up about the Al Ghul family. Such as, the public actually believed they were part demon, or that they were some type of mythological beings. Cryptids, if you would. He wondered with faint amusement what the common folk would think to find out he was no different than them, biologically anyway.

Five years ago, Damian would have laughed right in your face if you had dared to tell him that this would be his life. Before Jon, he would've thought himself weak for living like this, for falling in love, for starting a family. Some days it was still a wonder to him. But he was happier than he had ever been his whole life, so past Damian would just have to deal with it.

"I'll go check on them," Jon said after another five minutes.

"Noo," Damian complained, tightening his hold on Jon and rolling forwards, pulling Jon down over him.

"Damian," Jon chuckled out, letting himself be pulled on top of Damian's back, arms trapped under Damian's stomach.

"Five more minutes."

"Babe."

Damian ignored him, closing his eyes, relaxing again, even though Jon was mostly laying on top of him. Jon just sighed lightly, letting his head rest next to Damian's.

"I'd like to kiss you, but your hair is in my way."

Damian tilted his head slightly, opening an eye to see that his hair had indeed fallen down in front of his face. He smirked, just barely able to see Jon through the black strands.

"What are you going to do about that?"

"Not kiss you, I guess."

Damian sighed dramatically and released one of Jon's arms, shifting his weight to one side to let him pull it out. Jon then reached up, gently pulling his hair away from his face and then tilting his head slightly so they could kiss lightly. After a moment, Damian pushed against Jon, and then moved so he was on his back, Jon over him, still kissing. Usually Damian was against morning make outs, because of morning breath, but for some reason he was just desperately craving contact with Jon.

"We should get up," Jon reminded gently, as he started kissing Damian's neck, heading down towards his stomach.

"I would very much like to not do that."

Jon laughed, looking up at him and grinning brightly.

"We get back home tonight, if we save this until then, you won't have to keep quiet."

Damian groaned, tugging Jon up by the hair and pulling him into another kiss, rubbing their tongues together.

"Tease," he grumbled, pushing Jon off finally.

"More like, I would very much like to fuck you senseless, but I'd also like to avoid mentally scarring our 13 year old, so it'll just have to wait."

Damian sighed, eyeing Jon for a moment before rolling away, and sitting up on the edge of the bed, stretching slightly. Jon leaned over and kissed his cheek once before getting up and walking away, pulling a clean shirt from their bags and then heading towards the door.

"I'll go get the kids and then start breakfast."

"Okay," Damian answered, covering a yawn.

"Hey, Dami?"

"Yes, Habibi?"

When Jon didn't speak, Damian glanced over, eyebrow raised. Jon grinned.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The words fell from his lips so easily these days.

Jon smiled a little more and then left, clicking the door shut behind him. After a minute, Damian could hear him talking to the kids. Damian stood and moved to their suitcases, already packed for their departure, and pulled out some clean clothes, changing quickly. He walked over to the mirror hanging on the door and ducked slightly to look at his hair. After a moment he decided to leave it down, pushing his part to the opposite side and pulling the length over his shoulder. With that, he walked out, finding Amelia sitting on the cabin sofa, reading, while Hazim was sat nearby her, yawning and blinking tiredly, both still in pajamas. Hazim had Damian's darker skin, but Jon's blue eyes and curly hair, only time would tell which father he would look like more. Amelia looked like neither of them, she had dark skin, honey colored curly hair, and hazel eyes. She was going to be absolutely gorgeous, Damian could already tell. Good luck to any of her future suitors.

They had taken their first family vacation this week, going to a private cabin in North America, hidden away in the woods, just the four of them. It had been odd, not having servants and soldiers running around them constantly, but Damian had enjoyed the respite, enjoyed the time with his small family.

"Good morning, Amelia, Hazim."

"Good morning, Baba!" Amelia chittered out happily, looking up from her book as Damian kissed her on the head.

"Baba," Hazim whined, reaching up for him.

Damian smiled and scooped up the two year old, balancing him on his hip and kissing his head as the child buried his face into Damian's neck. Damian turned and walked to the kitchen, heading to get his coffee. Hazim was mostly talking already. Jon and Damian had agreed to teach him English first, and then Kryptonian, and depending how he took to that, Damian intended to teach him Arabic next. Damian had finally, almost completely mastered Kryptonian after four years of knowing Jon, but it still had not come as easily as any other language he had learned so far.

"What's for breakfast, love?" Damian asked, one handedly grabbing a coffee cup and pouring himself some.

"I haven't decided yet. Something simple, probab-" Jon cut off when he looked over at Damian. "You're coddling him again."

"And?"

"Damian."

This was one of the things they argued about. Damian tended to spoil the kids, coddle them a little too much, or so Jon said. Damian heavily denies this. Truthfully, he knows he's doing it, but he can't bring himself to care, not after how he was raised. He would dote over his children every waking second if he could.

"Can we not do this right now?"

Jon just sighed, looking back down at the cookbook he was looking in. He had specifically learned to cook for this trip.

"Fine, fine."

"Baba, me hungry."

"I'm hungry," Damian gently corrected. "And your dada is working on breakfast now."

Hazim gave a little whine, pouting at Jon.

"Hazim, do not whine."

That got a little whimper. Damian just sighed, giving a shrug to Jon before walking back out, going and sitting next to Amelia.

"Does dad need help with breakfast?"

"If you want him not to burn it, then yes."

"I heard that!"

Damian and Amelia both laughed, she closed her book and stood, disappearing into the kitchen. Damian and Hazim sat there together in silence for a while, waiting patiently, Damian just sipping his coffee and looking out the window. He had this weird feeling, deep in his gut. Like something bad was going to happen. Finally he shrugged and decided he must be having a weird residual feeling from his dreams.

After a bit, they sat down at the table for breakfast, everyone much happier now that they were getting food in their bellies. Damian, sitting across the table from Damian, found himself spacing out, looking at Jon. His husband had changed just slightly over the years, face slimming down slightly, bulking out a little more as he worked as general and not an ambassador. He had a few new scars due to some kryptonite incidents, including one that crossed just over the corner of his mouth, one end on his chin, the other just on the tip of his nose. He had recently cut his hair short after a chunk of it had gotten ripped out, shaving the sides, and trimming the top short. Damian would dare say he was even more handsome than when they first met.

After breakfast, they changed, and went on one last family walk through the forest, Hazim toddling after his sister as she forged ahead of them. Damian and Jon followed at a more leisurely pace, walking hand in hand, Damian leaning into Jon a little more than usual. That odd feeling hadn't gone away.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked softly, looking down at him.

"Why would anything be wrong."

"I know you, Damian. Is this about Hazim?"

"No. . . Jon, you trust me, right?"

"Of course I do. Damian, what's going on?" Jon asked, pulling him to a stop.

"I don't know, I just have this weird feeling. Why don't we stay here a few extra days?"

Jon frowned, tilting his head. "What do you mean, a weird feeling?"

"I just feel like something is wrong, or that something's going to go wrong. Please. Trust me."

Jon sighed, glancing up as their children got further ahead of them.

"Damian, nothing's wrong. We've already got transport meeting us today, we've no way to contact them and tell them we're delaying. We're two of the best trained fighters on the planet, and besides, what could happen? There's been no threats against you in years, no rebel uprisings, nothing. The planet is at peace. Nothing is wrong, baby."

Damian stared at him for a moment. Jon smiled softly, reaching up and cupping his face, his thumb gently stroking over his cheek.

"Okay." Damian nodded slightly, looking down.

"Good."

Jon quickly kissed him before snagging his hand again and beginning to walk, a little faster this time to catch up with the kids. Damian still felt a little on edge, especially after having acknowledged it, but he let Jon's reassurances soothe him.

He should not have.

After their walk, they went and gathered their things from the cabin, got in the car they had driven down in, and started heading towards the airfield, Damian driving because Jon had never learned how to. Amelia and Jon were laughing and talking as they drove, and Hazim was giggling too, even though he didn't really understand what was happening. They reached the airfield and got fast tracked through security check, driving straight out onto the tarmac. They were already out of the car and were getting things unloaded when Jon suddenly grabbed Damian's arm.

"Somethings wrong," he said lowly.

"Oh, now you believe me?!"

"Damian, there's no guards. _Anywhere._ "

Damian looked around and noticed how Jon was right. No guards visible on the tarmac, no guards visible at the planes or buildings, and no work personnel preparing the plane for take off.

"Jon-"

"Watch the kids. I'm going to go check it out," Jon instructed, bending and kissing him quickly

"Jon. Wait. Let's just get back in the car and-"

Damian cut off as several things happened faster than he could register. There was a sharp whistling noise, then a solid thunk. Jon screamed in pain, staggering slightly, and Damian could suddenly see an arrow sticking out of his back, buried quite deep. Amelia screamed and grabbed Hazim, ducking behind the car before Damian could even react.

"Jon!" Damian exclaimed, horror and fear pitching through him faster then he could even process what was happening.

For an arrow to pierce Jon's skin like that, it'd have to be kryptonite, and as far as Damian was aware, the only kryptonite on Earth was green, which meant very deadly.

"Fuck!" Jon hissed out, staggering and falling against the back of the car.

Damian quickly grabbed Jon, pulling him to safety even as he scanned for the archer. He had known things weren't right. He knew they should have stayed. Hazim was crying, and Amelia was doing her best to shield him from seeing their father.

"Get it out, get it out!" Jon yelped, reaching back to grab at the arrow.

"Hold on!" Damian ordered, pushing Jon so he could brace against the car.

It wasn't really tall enough to hide them, but it was better than nothing. He grabbed the arrow as close to Jon's skin as possible. Usually he would never do this, but he knew Jon ran more of a risk from leaving the arrow in than he did from taking it out. He tugged carefully, noting that there was a slight resistance, but not much. He prayed it wasn't barbed and then yanked it out. Jon screamed and cursed loudly, hitting the side of the car hard enough to dent it. Damian hurriedly wiped Jon's dark blood off on his shirt, examining the arrow to see that it was unbroken, and was indeed kryptonite.

"Fuck, get it out of here!" Jon forced out, leaning away from it.

Damian did a quick calculation, wind speed, direction of potential attackers and then just hurled it in the opposite direction that it had come. He was starting to feel oddly calm, assessing their situation, keeping Jon and Amelia's heads down. It was obvious their attacker had planned to deal with Jon, and it was likely they may have more kryptonite arrows. He now had three dependents, with Jon injured, he needed to protect them, and the best way to do that was to stay calm. Luckily his katana was only a few feet away, laying in the ground by their bags, but that would only do so much good against an archer. After a moment he peeked his head over the top of the car, looking around, trying to locate the archer.

"Damian, what the hell are you doing, get down."

"Shh, I need to-"

There, a flash of red, darting between loading tunnels. Damian narrowed his eyes at it, guessing he had a few seconds to dart out and grab his weapon before he would be in the line of fire. So he did, snagging it and one of their bags, quickly tearing into the bag and finding one of his shirts, ripping it and hastily bandaging Jon's wound, which was still bleeding pretty heavily. Damian took a breath and then looked at Amelia.

"I need you to be brave, can you do that?"

Amelia looked at Jon, who shook his head, and then at Damian and nodded.

"Damian!" Jon protested.

Damian took Hazim from Amelia, bending to kiss her forehead.

"I need you to run inside, get help, find security, and a first aid kit, call Jason and Roy if you can't find any guards, okay?"

"Okay, Baba."

"You can do this, I love you."

"I love you too be careful, please." She carefully and quickly hugged Jon before turning.

Damian watched her glance around the edge of the car and then start sprinting for the nearest door, never staying out in the open longer than she had too. Then he looked back around. Hazim was still screaming, clearly giving away their position, but Damian couldn't really do much about that right now.

"Jon, sit down," he ordered.

Jon glared at him, but slowly slid into a seated position. Damian shoved another shirt behind him, and he leaned against it, putting pressure on his wound. Damian took a deep breath, kissing Hazim's head.

"I'm sorry, my son," he murmured gently, and then bent, setting the child in Jon's lap. "I'll be right back, Jon."

"No, don't, you idiot. That's a bad idea."

Damian just smiled softly as Jon gripped his arm tightly.

"It'll be fine. Just next time, I hope you learn to listen to me when I tell you something's not right."

Jon clenched his jaw and shook his head. Damian quickly kissed him, and then stepped away, scanning the airfield.

"Come out!" He yelled. "Come out and face me, you coward!"

There was a long pause, and then a voice answered him.

"Why should I do that? So you can trick me into combat? You deserve death, Damian Al Ghul. We are here to get revenge for our fallen brothers and sisters."

Damian narrowed his eyes, the voice was familiar and seemed to be coming from all around him. He closed his eyes for a second, listening more than looking, waiting patiently, waiting for the voice to register.

"So you'd murder a man in front of his children?"

"You did the same to our fathers and mothers. Why do your children deserve anything else?" This was a different voice, unfamiliar and new.

"Don't worry," the first voice said. "Little Prince Hazim will not be harmed. He is innocent and young. He will suffer more from growing up without a father than he would dying with one."

Damian growled in his throat, just as the voice clicked. "You are a coward, Drake. Come out into the light."

A few seconds passed, and then out from behind one of the air stairs stepped a figure. He was small and lithe, but dressed in black and gray, like the Batman identity Bruce had once used. Damian eyed him suspiciously, katana raised in a defensive position.

"We thought you were dead."

"Well you thought wrong, asshole," Timothy Drake spat at him, extending a Bo staff.

"I see that."

Damian glanced to the side as Hazim hiccuped and started trying to crawl to him, only to be stopped by Jon.

"Baba!" Hazim wailed, grabbing for Damian.

He looked sadly at his son for a moment before looking back to Drake.

"You've made one grave miscalculation, Drake."

"What's that?"

"I will not hesitate to kill you. I will protect my family, my children and my husband with my dying breath. I am not who you think I am."

Timothy laughed, shaking his head and looking away, off to one side for just a few seconds to long, showing his hand with that simple glance. Damian stepped into a defensive position, waiting to be attacked. Instead he heard a soft thrum, and that familiar hissing whistling noise. He leaned to one side, reaching up and grabbing the arrow just before it could go sailing past his head. When he looked back at Tim, the man was staring at him, mouth wide open.

"You have no honor, Drake. If you wish to take revenge for Bruce, do it like a true soldier," Damian spat at him, dropping the arrow to the ground.

Tim was silent for a moment before beginning to walk closer.

"It's not just Bruce. It's Dick, and Diana. Hal, Wally, Oli, Dinah, Connor, Emiko, Arthur, Donna, Barry, Don, Lex, Roy, Jason, Cassie and every other one of my friends you have killed or otherwise taken from me, you sick son of a bitch."

"I'm sure we can both go on for days with the lists of people the other had been involved in the deaths of, so shall we move onto the fighting part?"

"Fine," Tim hissed out.

He lunged first, and Damian easily dodged, swinging back and catching the back of Tim's thighs with his sword. Tim yelped and spun to face him.

"You're sloppy," Damian critiqued, quickly circling back around to avoid keeping his back exposed to Drake's archer. "Out of practice, hmm?"

Tim answered by lunging, sending a flurry of attacks at Damian. Damian blocked or dodged each, not even really bothered by him.

"You could at least try," Damian mocked, catching Tim's Bo and leaning in to slice across the man's ribs.

Tim yelped and jerked his Bo away, flipping back a few steps. Damian grinned at him, sliding back into a defensive position. Then he screamed in pain, falling down onto one knee. Violent pain had just burst through his right calf.

"Damian!" Jon yelled.

"Babbaaa!"

Damian, gasping in pain, looked down to see an arrow through his calf muscle, the steel Arrowhead visible on the opposite side of the feathers. He grit his teeth and reached down, snapping it off and pulling it out, looking up at Drake.

"So you resort to cheap tricks and hidden attacks. You _are_ just a cowering imbecile."

Tim yelled in anger, yanking out a dagger and rushing forwards. Damian was struggling to see and think clearly through the pain, but he stood to meet the attack, taking the blow from the Bo to his arm, and deflecting the stab with his sword, keeping Tim too far back to get a good hit in. 

"I do not have to take insults from a man like you," Tim hissed at him.

"Fine. Then shut up and die."

Then suddenly, Damian was being yanked to the side, displaced by Jon, who took his place, deflecting a blow from Tim before turning in the blink of an eye and catching an arrow, whirling and stabbing it through Tim's shoulder. Tim cried out in alarm, staggering back even as Jon turned and hit Tim in the stomach with a back kick. Tim flew back, landing on his ass. There was a blur of light and then Tim was gone.

"There's a speedster," Damian exclaimed, grabbing Jon and yanking him back towards the car. "Where's Hazim?!"

"Car!"

Damian yanked the car door open, pulling the screaming toddler out again and cradling him against his body, shushing him softly as he slid to the ground

"Baba baba baba," Hazim babbled out, gripping Damian's shirt tightly.

Jon was standing protectively over Damian, looking around for a moment before dropping down and starting to bandage Damian's leg.

"We needed to get inside," Jon said, looking up and around, eyes flickering in a specific direction. "Too many open spaces out here. Leaves you vulnerable."

"The archer. They may have more kryptonite, please get down," Damian ordered, pulling on Jon.

"Stop. I'm going to protect you and Hazim, please let me."

"Jon, please. I can't lose you."

"And I can't lose you either!" Jon snapped, looking down at him for just a second. 

They glared at each other. Then Jon leaned down, kissing Damian quickly.

"I love you, okay? Never forget that."

"Stop it. We're going to be fine."

"Damian, please."

Damian inhaled slightly, glancing around once more before reaching up, knotting a hand into Jon's hair and pulling him down for another kiss. 

"We will go back home tonight. We will raise our children together. We will turn the kingdom over to them together. We will grow old together. You are not allowed to leave me. That is an order."

"Yes, your majesty," Jon said with a smile that said otherwise. 

"I love you, Jon."

"I know."

They kissed once more, and then Jon pulled away, gently kissing the top of Hazim's head for several seconds, closing his eyes and just lingering there. Then he straightened.

"I'm going to get the archer, you stay here and watch Hazim," Jon instructed, turning and grabbing his own sword, a weapon Damian had practically forced him to start carrying, and his whip.

"I thought we were supposed to be going inside?"

"We're not going to make it inside with that archer still active."

Damian sighed, nodding. "Be careful, and watch out for the speedster."

Jon nodded once and then turned, striding away confidently. Hazim had quieted to low whimpers, hiding his face in Damian's neck, and Damian was quite glad he was as young as he was, because hopefully he wouldn't remember any of this. He sat there in painful silence for a few minutes, listening to Hazim's whimpers and not much else. Then he heard footsteps pounding towards him. He looked up and saw Amelia running over, darting between covers, a few guards and what appeared to be a civilian on her heels.

"Baba!" She cried out, running over and sliding to a stop beside him.

"Amelia!" He reached up, pressing their foreheads together for a second, giving a breath of relief.

"These are two security guards, I called Jason, and some of the Kryptonian's are on their way! And this is a doctor!"

"Emperor Al Ghul," the civilian man said, bowing quickly and then dropping down, setting a first aid kit on the ground.

"My leg," Damian ordered, picking it up slightly. "Amelia take your brother. I want one of you two to stay with my children. Protect them at all costs."

The guards exchanged a look, and then the woman nodded. 

"I'll watch them, your majesty, they'll be safe."

"Amelia, your weapon."

Amelia made a face, but darted over to their bags, digging through hers and pulling out a dagger that was longer than her forearm. She quickly strapped it to her waist before coming and to get Hazim.

"Wait. Where's dad?"

"He's okay," Damian promised. "Just go, okay? Get someplace safe."

Amelia hesitated a moment longer. Damian took a breath, kissing Hazim's head and cradling his son against him for a moment longer. Then he passed him over, kissing Amelia's head as well.

"I love you both. Never forget that."

"Wait, baba-"

"Princess Al Ghul, please, let's get inside."

The guard quickly started herding Amelia back towards the airport.

"I love you, baba!" Amelia yelled back, looking like she was crying. 

Damian watched her go for a moment before looking down at the doctor, who was bandaging his leg to the best of his ability.

"You'll need stitches, but this should hold it."

"Good."

Damian easily rolled to his feet, grabbing his katana again.

"Uh, your majesty, you shouldn't be putting weight on that-" the doctor cut off with a gasp as Damian put his sword to the man's neck.

"My husband is out there, bleeding, risking his life to protect me and our children. I am going to help him, and you, cretin, will sit here and wait for us to return."

The doctor nodded as much as he could with the sword there, looking pale. Damian glared at him for a moment before looking at the guard.

"Come with me," he ordered, turning and starting to limp in the same direction Jon had gone.

The guard hurried to obey, pulling out a handgun as he followed Damian. 

His leg was screaming with every step, but his heart was pounding, adrenaline and fear coursing through him. Jon was in danger. Jon could die. Those were the thoughts running through his head on repeat as he walked.

"They have an archer, a speedster, and a man highly trained in hand to hand combat," he informed the guard. "Keep your eyes and ears open."

A high pitched scream hit his ears, and he whirled, sprinting towards it. He was trying to keep himself calm, but it wasn't working very well. They darted past a line of baggage carts and found Jon towering over a female archer, the girl pinned down by his boot on her stomach, blood starting to cover the black asphalt.

"Jon!" Damian exclaimed, taking a step forward. 

He was stopped by a metal Bo staff to the gut. He grunted, bending and gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. The guard spun, firing several shots at Damian's attacker.

"Everyone stop or I stomp through her rib cage and crush her heart under my heel!" Jon shouted, and movement around them froze.

Damian, struggling to catch his breath, looked up to see Drake, a small red headed man behind him. That must be the speedster. 

"Damian?" Jon asked softly.

"I'm fine," Damian gasped out, straightening, finally able to breath properly.

He turned to look at Drake, glaring at him

"The kids?"

"They're safe."

Jon nodded in satisfaction, looking back down at the archer, and then up to their attackers.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, putting a little more weight on the girl. “You’re going to turn and walk away. You’re going to leave me and my family alone. Once I know that you’re leaving, I’ll let the girl go. And do not lie, I will know.”

“We came here to do a mission, and I fully intend to complete it,” Tim snarled, starting towards Damian.

Jon, as promised, started crushing the girls ribs, but the speedster rushed over, body slamming into Jon and throwing him off. Jon stumbled back, tripping and landing on his ass. The speedster picked the girl up and disappeared behind Tim, who threw himself at Damian, grabbing his sword to prevent him from deflecting the blow and then stabbing at his midsection. Damian easily twisted to the side, bringing an elbow up to strike at Tim’s face, instead meeting empty air as Tim was already moving, plunging his knife into Damian’s body, just above his hip. Damian cried out in pain, but kept fighting, wrenching his sword back and blindly swatting at Tim. And then Jon was there, protecting Damian, pulling him back out of the way. Damian should have seen it coming, he should have expected it. He should have moved sooner.

But he was too slow.

He watched, in what felt like slow motion, as Drake pulled out another dagger, hidden somewhere inside his clothes. He saw the green glow, felt Jon pulling back, but he was too slow too. A scream was already leaving Damian’s throat before the blade had even touched Jon. Everyone watched in horror as the green metal easily slid through his flesh and bones, plunged straight into his chest.

Damian’s world went silent.

He didn’t notice the guard firing his weapon, or the Kryptonian guards finally arriving, giving chase as the three assassins fled. He didn’t see the small scuffle that happened around them. And he didn’t hear yelling, the fighting. Nothing mattered except Jon.

He caught Jon as he fell backwards, falling to the ground with his husband in his lap, staring in horror at the green blade, buried deep into his chest, dark blood already seeping out of the wound, staining everything it touched. Jon’s mouth was open, and he was writhing slightly. Damian, feeling like all his movements were sluggish and delayed, reached up, grabbing the dagger and pulling it out. Jon’s scream, back arched and head thrown back as he yowled with pain, brought him back, and the world was suddenly also screaming around him. Jon was gasping, fighting for air, people were running around, yelling orders, but Damian didn’t care about them. He tossed the blade to the side, rushing to press his hand over the wound, putting as much pressure over it as he could.

“Jon! Jon! Look at me! Listen to me!”

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” Jon gasped out, writing slightly.

Damian adjusted him to be supporting his head better, feeling panic rising faster than boiling water. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. He was scared.

“Jon. Stay with me,” he begged, pressing a little harder. Blood was staining his hands.

“Wasn’t what I was hoping to hear you beg for today,” Jon forced out, and then started coughing, immediately gasping for air after.

“Stop that,” Damian managed, and realized he was crying, wet tears rolling down his cheeks, blurring his vision. “Stop it. You’re going to be fine.”

Jon coughed again, tilting his head away as he spat out blood.

“I don’t think I’m making it out of this one, baby.”

“Stop it! You’re not allowed to leave me!”

“I’m sorry,” Jon breathed out.

“No!”

“Dami,” Jon started, then groaned in pain. He reached up, gripping Damians arm. 

Damian bit his lip, looking away, and then looked back down, Jon managed a small pained smile.

“Promise me something?”

“I don’t need to. You’ll be fine.”

“Damian, please,” Jon begged, voice pitching with fear. “Please. You have to- The kids. You can’t leave them. Please. Don’t leave them. Don’t be like Kal.”

Damian gave a broken sob, bowing his head as he let out a low keening noise.

“Dami!”

“I won’t, I won’t. I promise, just don’t leave us.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.” Jon sounded desperate, he was also crying.

Damian couldn’t answer, just gave another sob in response.

Jon was dying. He was going to lose Jon. He was going to lose the one thing that had brought him joy, the thing that had taught him how to love, how to be human. He was losing him. He couldn’t lose him.

“Dami?” Jon asked, voice high on fear.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Damian reassured, trying to force calm into his voice. He leaned down and gently kissed Jon’s forehead, then his lips. “I’m not leaving you, love. Just keep breathing.”

He could see a medical team rushing their way over, across the tarmac.

“I can’t see. Oh god. Damian-”

“Shhh, You’ll be okay. Just breath, Jon. Okay? Breath.”

Jon’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, Damian risked moving his hand to his pulse point and could feel it fading. Something numb and cold settled over him as he suddenly accepted what was happening. He needed to soothe Jon.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Habibi, okay? Me and the kids. We’ll be waiting for you. It’ll be okay,” Damian promised, knowing it was empty. Jon was dying. “I love you, Jon. Never ever forget that. I love you.”

“I love-” Jon broke off in a gasp.

“I know. I know. It’s okay, just relax. Just breathe, you’re okay.”

Jon took a shuddering breath and then stopped. His body tensed in Damian’s arms for a moment and then fully relaxed. Damian stared at him in horror for a moment, and then squeezed his eyes closed. The noise that ripped out of him was nothing but pure heartbreak and sorrow. He practically screamed, resting his forehead on Jon’s. And then medical teams were taking him, putting him on a stretcher, yelling at each other, trying to revive him. Damian just sat there on the tarmac, crying, not even acknowledging anyone, just holding his head and sobbing. 

Jon was dead.

He knew it. He felt it in his soul. Jon wasn’t coming back.

Something happened next. Someone moved him, bandaged his leg and stomach, may have even stitched it. He wasn’t sure. Suddenly he was just aware that he was sitting on the back of an ambulance, staring blankly at the red staining his pants, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Baba?” a scared voice asked.

He looked up, and found a group of people standing in front of him. He couldn’t quite place them at first, his eyes weren’t focusing. Then suddenly he knew who they were. His family. Amelia was tucked against Roy’s side, Jason was holding Hazim on his hip, his hand on Amelia’s shoulder. Damian just stared at them for a moment, too numb to process when Jason and Roy would have gotten here. Too numb to remember he would need to comfort his children. He blinked, saw Amelia look over to one side, and then her eyes widened in horror.

“Dad-”

“Shh, Amelia,” Roy murmured gently, turning the girl to shield her from whatever she had seen.

“Damian?” Jason asked, even as Amelia started sobbing into Roy’s stomach.

“He’s . . . “ Damian swallowed, the words getting caught in his throat. “Is he?”

“I’m sorry,” Jason murmured, looking down at the ground. “They couldn’t save him.”

Damian closed his eyes, letting the reality wash over him again, the last shred of hope ripped from him just like that. Then Amelia rushed forwards, slamming into him, holding onto him tightly as she cried. Hazim barely seemed disturbed. 

Hazim wouldn’t remember his father.

Damian took a small breath and then immediately pressed his face down into Amelia’s hair, tears silently slipping down his cheeks again.

Jon was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IM SORRY I DONT LIKE IT EITHER
> 
> Also I'm sorry for the Tim fans, I hate treating him like this, but it makes sense, he's lost everything, Damian's taken it from him.  
> Also the Archer is Arrowette(Cissie King-Jones) for anyone who is curious.
> 
> Anyway, I know, I'm an evil soul, I'm unsure how many people guessed this after my note last week, but. It had to be done.  
> This story would have been wrong with a happy ending.
> 
> I'll see you next week. . .


	15. Numbness and Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> If you're still here and don't hate me, thanks for sticking with it!
> 
> If you're still here and do hate me, that's valid.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter! :)

Numbness consumed Damian’s life. 

Flashes of images broke his consciousness. Memories of crying, of his children crying, of the lazarus pit. Jon’s body in the green liquid, and yet nothing happening.

He supposed it was better this way.

He could not imagine his husband, the joyful man he had been so lucky to know, consumed by the rage of the pit. He couldn’t imagine his children having to see that.

But it did not make the pain any less. It didn’t stop him from crying in the mornings when he woke up and remembered Jon was gone. It didn’t stop Amelia from crying every time Hazim asked where his dada was. 

Damian felt like he was suffocating. Like something had been dropped on his chest and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he could barely walk. 

Today was Jon’s funeral. They had been required to wait the minimum time for Jon’s family to arrive on earth. Damian had woken up thirty minutes ago and had yet to move, staring at the balcony doors in silence, listening to the rain. How fitting. He was trying not to think about it. Trying to clear his mind like he did during meditation, but he just felt so off and wrong and tired. He was always tired, he never wanted to work, and when he was working, he spent most of his time staring at walls or documents and not understanding a single word on them. Jason and Maya had eventually ordered him to stop coming to meetings, and he just accepted it. 

He couldn’t think straight half the time.

He had never felt like this before. Well. Once. The time he had learned never to let himself love someone, to never have that weakness. His mother had taught him that lesson, quite brutally. And now life only reminded him of it. Only this time it was worse. This time he couldn’t take two steps without seeing Jon. Whether it was in a picture, or in Hazim, or through a book sitting on the table that he hadn’t put away yet. He had chosen to let himself love and had been hurt in the end for it. This is why he didn’t love.

It felt like a huge part of him had been ripped out of his body, out of his soul. He felt hollow, empty, exposed. He felt nothing and everything at once.

He heard a rustling behind him and finally moved, looking back to find Jasper stretching, yawning and then sitting and licking himself, and he felt another stab of pain. Jasper had been Jon’s cat. He was fully grown now, passive and attentive like Malika was. The cat spotted Damian looking at him and mewled once before walking over and standing up on Damian’s chest.

“Hello, Jasper,” Damian murmured, picking up a hand and gently rubbing his head. His throat felt raw and he didn’t quite know why.

Jasper mewled again, gently kneading Damian’s chest for a moment. He sighed and looked away, back towards the balcony.

He wasn’t ready for today.

He knew what would happen. Kal would blame him for not being able to save his son, blame him for Jon’s death. And really, wasn’t he to blame? He let Jon get into that situation, hadn’t paid enough attention to Drake, hadn’t been fast enough. He had just been a few seconds faster.

Someone was knocking at the door. A light, gentle tapping, uncoordinated and choppy.

“Come in,” he called softly.

After a moment, the door swung open, and in tottered Hazim, looking like he had just woken up.

“Baba?” Hazim asked softly, coming right up to the edge of the bed.

“Good morning, alsghyr,” Damian responded, sitting up just enough to pull Hazim onto the bed beside him.

Hazim and Amelia had recently been staying in the extra room recently, so they were near Damian if either should need him. Or if he should need them. Hazim laid on top of his chest where the cat had previously been, staying silent. He finally understood that Jon was gone, but Damian wasn’t quite sure he understood the whole concept of death. He had made sure to clarify at every point that Jon didn’t want to leave them, and he would never willingly do that, that he had been taken from them. 

“Baba?” Hazim asked, pushing off of Damian’s chest to look up at him.

Damian hummed softly, reaching up to pet Hazim’s curly black hair gently, feeling a familiar stab to his heart as he looked into Hazim’s blue eyes. 

“You sad?”

Damian hesitated a moment before leaning forwards and kissing Hazim’s forehead.

“Yes, abn.”

“Why?”

“We have to say goodbye to your dada today.”

Hazim stared at him for a moment, processing this. He was so smart, even at two. So incredibly clever, and he spoke so much better than any other two year old.

“Why?”

“It’s just how these things have to happen,” Damian told him gently.

A scowl came across the boy’s face, and he put his chin down on Damian’s chest. They didn’t speak for a while.

Damian remembered the promise he had made to Jon. He wouldn’t be like Kal. Jon had told him once, what felt like forever ago, that when his mother had died, Kal had completely shut off, become cold and distant. That had been the start of his issues with his father, because he realized too late that he had missed a good portion of Jon’s childhood, and tried to make it up too late. He would not be like Kal. He would love his children, he would protect and guard them with everything he had. He would not be like his mother either. He would not try to make them into something they were not, he would not force them to be soldiers. He would teach them to protect themselves, yes, but he wanted only the best. He wanted them to be happy.

After a while, he finally got up, carrying Hazim on his hip as he walked into the main room, finding Amelia stumbling out of the other bedroom at the same time, she rubbed her eyes and then blinked at Damian.

“Good morning,” Damian said softly.

And just like that he had broken whatever fragile walls she had built up. He could tell her eyes started tearing up, and she covered her mouth with a hand, her other one coming up to her chest. Damian frowned and walked over to the sofa, setting Hazim down and then motioning her over. Amelia ran over and hugged him tightly, breaking down and sobbing. They had both lost almost everyone they loved in life. They both only had this small family left.

A servant brought them breakfast at some point, murmuring something about how the kryptonian’s had arrived. They all more or less poked at their food, except Hazim who hungrily gobbled down his breakfast of waffles. Damian went and changed after eating, pulling on black trousers and a black shirt that may have belonged to Jon at some point, due to how large it was on him. He didn’t try to do anything fancy with his hair or makeup. He didn’t have it in him. Then he went with Hazim and Amelia to their shared room(shared for now, they would likely separate once Hazim was old enough and Amelia decided she needed more privacy), to help dress Hazim appropriately for the day. When they were all dressed, they finally left to meet the Kryptonians. This would be the first time Amelia will have met them, and while Hazim had technically met them before, he would have been too young to remember them.

Damian wasn’t necessarily excited to deal with Kal. Frankly he didn’t want to deal with most people these days, let alone Jon’s family. But he had obligations. They found the El’s in the dining hall, silently conversing. Damian realized with a shock that Jon’s grandparents had come, and felt anger beginning to boil in his stomach. In attendance was Jor and Lara El, Kal, Kon and Lin, and their daughter Ann-El. He had stopped short in the doorway when he had seen all of them, but Kon had spotted him, turning to face him fully. Damian squeezed Hazim, who was sat on his hip, a little tighter.

“Damian,” Lin breathed out, taking a step closer. 

Hazim’s hands clenched in his shirt, while Amelia shifted a little closer to him.

“Lin,” Damian greeted, nodding his head slightly to her.

Everyone just looked at each other in silence for a bit, Kon was the first to speak after the long pause.

“Damian, I’m sorry,” he said softly, walking closer. 

Damian gently set Hazim down, accepting Kon’s extended hand. Lin was right behind him, hugging Damian tightly. Damian let it linger, closing his eyes for a second. Then he stepped back, picking Hazim - who had been clinging to his leg - up again.

“This is Hazim,” he told them, clearing his throat. “And our- my adoptive daughter, Amelia.”

He put an arm around Amelia, looking past Kon to Jor, glaring at the old man, threatening him to say something.

“Hello,” Lin greeted with a sad smile. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Hello,” Amelia whispered. She hadn’t been very talkative lately.

Damian needed to make sure she was talking with someone, talking through her grief. Lord knows he wasn’t a good outlet for her right now.

“This is our daughter, Ann,” Kon introduced, motioning the girl forwards. She had Lin’s blonde hair and Kon’s blue eyes.

She smiled a little sheepishly, looking down at the floor. Damian shifted Hazim onto his other hip, bowing slightly. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Princess Ann."

Ann glanced up at Kon and then gave a little curtsey. "Pleasure, Emperor Al Ghul."

Lin gently herded Ann away. Damian readjusted Hazim once more before walking straight up to Jor, head held high.

“Damian, please,” Kal’s voice implored, he sounded broken and tired.

Damian tilted his head lightly, ignoring the ex-Emperor and holding eye contact with Jon’s grandfather.

Jon had told him stories. He had told him how the scar across his cheek had come from Jor, had told him the things Jor had called him, how he had been treated, _abused_ really. Damian wanted to run a knife through this man’s stomach. He had some nerve showing up here.

“Jor-El,” He said, voice guarded.

Jor glared back. He had gray eyes, unlike any of his children, and his hair was completely silver. 

“Emperor Al Ghul,” he greeted, voice stiff, cold, apathetic.

Damian’s eyebrow arched slightly and Jor clenched his jaw, stepping back and bowing.

“You are very arrogant to think you have any place at my husband’s funeral,” Damian growled out. 

“He was my grands-”

“No. You meant nothing to him. And from my understanding, he meant nothing to you.”

Jor’s eyes narrowed, anger flashing over his face. “You-”

“I warn you, Jor. One word from me and you will find yourself removed from my planet.”

A tense silence fell over the room, Damian and Jor glaring at each other. He wasn’t quite as tall as the elderly Kryptonian, but he was tall enough to meet his gaze and not have to tilt his head up too much.

“Baba,” Amelia called softly.

Damian turned to look at her, his face softening. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I go find Lian?”

Damian nodded, giving her a soft smile. The girl spun on her heel and all but ran out. Lian and Amelia had been spending a lot of time together. They were a year apart, but the cousins were practically best friends at this point.

Damian turned back to look at his husband’s family. Over the past three years, Kal had stepped down, letting Kon be crowned as emperor. They had remained in good contact, the two brothers, and it was nice to see, knowing that Jon had a good relationship with Kon now. They all looked much older then the last time Damian had seen them, weary of the world. He understood completely.

Hazim whined and wiggled in his arms, reaching up to grab onto Damian’s hair and tug.

“Ah-ha,” Damian scolded gently, easily disconnecting the toddlers hands and pushing his hair over his other shoulder.

He looked up and met Kal’s eyes. He was looking at Hazim, and Damian knew he saw the same thing Damian did every time he looked at his son. He saw Jon.

“Did you get shown to rooms?” Damian asked, turning to address Kon.

“Yes, we did. Do you mind if we talk for a bit?” Kon asked. “Just you and I?”

“Not at all, let me just call Hazim’s nanny.”

Damian sent a servant to find the woman and instruct her to come to his office, where he led Kon, setting Hazim down once they were inside. Kon looked around the office, then down at Hazim.

“I still remember his birth,” Kon said, sounding a little sad. “The only time I’ve ever seen Jon happier was at your wedding. You would have thought that smile was going to be plastered on his face for the rest of time.”

Damian winced at the painful memory, moving to sit in one of the two chairs in front of the desk, turning it so he could watch Hazim walk towards the bookshelf. Kon came and sat in beside him, neither spoke for a while, just watching the two year old.

“I tried to convince Jor not to come. But he was determined. I’m sorry if he upset you,” Kon told him softly after several minutes of silence.

Damian sighed and shook his head. “I just can’t believe he even thinks he has any right to come. Kon, the things he did to Jon. . .”

“I know. I know and it’s horrible. But I couldn’t stop him. Listen, I’ll keep an eye on him. You shouldn’t have to worry about him and everything else.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Damian called, looking towards it. 

“Emperor Al Ghul, you called for me?” a woman said, stepping into the room.

“Yes. I need you to watch Hazim for a bit, until everything starts."

“Yes, Your majesty.” She bowed and then went and picked up Hazim. “Come on, my little prince.”

Damian watched the two leave, with minimal fussing from Hazim. Damian turned his full attention to Kon.

“How are you?” Kon asked, blue eyes soft and sad.

“I’m fine.”

Kon’s eyebrow arched. “Okay. . . . You don’t have to tell me, I know we’re not close but I’m going to call. . . what’s the human word? Bull-Shit?”

Damian snorted lightly, glancing away. “I couldn’t start to explain if I wanted to.”

“That’s completely understandable. I can’t even imagine. . . “

“I hope you never lose Lin, Kon. I hope you never understand,” Damian said, looking back to his fellow emperor.

Kon gave him a small, pained smile, and then sighed softly. They sat there for quite a while, not really talking, just sitting together. Then, finally, they had to get up and go to the funeral. 

The funeral itself was limited to the residents of the palace, but nearly the whole planet had been put in shutdown as a national day of mourning. Damian sat at the front with his family, as well as Jason, Roy, Lian, Maya and Kathy. It was a slow, solemn, depressing event, and yet Damian didn’t cry. Hazim was sat in his lap, Amelia was curled into his side from the chair next to him. She was crying, but Damian didn’t shed a tear.

He would mourn his husband in private. 

After the funeral, people funneled past the three of them, standing next to the mausoleum, murmuring soft condolences, occasionally lingering at the edge of the marble building for a second. Hazim seemed to understand whatever was going on required him to sit still, and he sat on his chair next to Amelia, holding his sister’s hand as she stared blankly at the ground. When it was all done, Hazim’s nanny took the kids back inside, and everyone else slowly filtered away, until just Damian was standing next to the Mausoleum. He took a shaky breath, looking around and finding his guards standing several meters away, well out of earshot.

“Jon. Love,” He started, words already catching in his throat, making him feel like he was choking. He closed his eyes.

His chest felt like it was going to rip open. It felt like there was a monster inside, waiting to slip out and just pull open his ribs and lungs and shred his heart and skin and leave him suffocating and dying on the grass. 

He wanted it to.

Oh the things he wanted to say, but didn’t know how.

_I miss you. I need you. Please come back. I can’t do this without you. I love you. I don’t want to live without you. I can’t look at our son without thinking of you. I can’t breathe without missing you. Why did you leave me? Why didn’t you let me take the knife? Why? Why is life so cruel?_

The words that caught in his throat and threatened to kill him. 

“ _Please,”_ Damian whispered, hating the broken crack in his voice. 

He bowed his head, hair falling down around his face. And only now did he cry, tears rolling down his face, falling to the ground. He took broken, shaky breathes, hiccuping slightly.

He didn’t remember walking back to the castle. And he didn’t remember going to Maya. But suddenly he was being hugged by the woman he considered his sister, crying into her shoulder, numb to existence.

_He didn’t want to live in a world without Jon._

  
  


* * *

  
  


The numbness slowly faded into this blinding rage.

He didn't even really realize it. Just one day he woke up and felt a little less numb, and a little more angry.

He was going to kill Tim Drake. He was going to find the murderer and he was going to crush his throat and rip his heart out and watch him bleed to death, and even that was too merciful of a death for his husband's killer.

He threw himself fully into his work, tracking down Drake, and his two accomplices. He was able to discover their names, Bart Allen and Cissie King-Jones. Allen he understood, the Allen family had suffered by his hand, due to their decision to use their powers against the kingdom. But King-Jones made no sense. He had done a check on her, and nothing had come up. Nothing in her family history that should make her want to kill him. She was a competitive archer, and had seemed to have a fairly comfortable life. But it didn't matter, what was done was done.

Nothing else mattered but this.

He was going to avenge Jon, and then he could come home and be with his children. He could raise them and love them and protect them the way they deserved. He would focus on being a father. 

For now, he needed to focus on being an Emperor.

Kathy had been promoted to general, to take over the troops she had led with Jon, and she had been focusing solely on helping Damian. She was as keen for revenge as he was. Jason helped where he could, but he and Roy were also watching Hazim and Amelia a lot. Damian felt a little bad for pushing his children on them like that, but he had to do this.

"This is pointless."

Damian looked up at the blonde, who was aggressively rubbing her eyes.

"Are you giving up?" He asked, looking back down at his tablet. 

"Hell no, I'm just saying, we're both too tired to be of any use right now. Why don't we come back to this in the morning."

They made eye contact and for a brief second, Damian let his mental walls drop. Kathy winced away, averting her eyes, presumably as she felt the wave of anguish and anger that consumed him. Damian didn't respond, just returned to work. He couldn't stop. They were getting close to a breakthrough. He could feel it. If only he could just get some people willing to sell out information. He wanted Drake. He wanted him dead, and only then would he be able to rest.

The next few days, a whole week really, blurred into a frenzied state of work, Damian’s sole focus in life to find Timothy Drake. He wasn’t aware of it, but he was fully obsessed with this. He didn’t spend as much time with his kids, and he was barely in his room, only to sleep and eat breakfast. It wasn’t healthy, but it’s what he needed. He needed that focus.

After three weeks of trying to hunt down Timothy Drake, he finally found him, in Paris, France. He immediately got his troops together, and left, the local police informed of the situation and quickly located him, so Damian was finally able to catch up, spotting him hurrying down the street.

"Drake!" Damian roared, pulling out his katana.

Timothy Drake, who had been in the process of running away, weaving between buildings, and suddenly found himself boxed in by Kryptonian guards, turned to face Damian. He was clearly exhausted, shoulders slumped, face weary. He was bundled up in a large jacket, a baseball hat pulled down low over his face.

"Damian," he greeted back.

"That is Emperor Al Ghul, to you," Damian spat, walking closer still.

Tim sighed, glancing around him, looking for exits and not finding any, the Kryptonian soldiers had closed in around them, creating a loose circle.

"I take it you're here to kill me?"

"You assume correctly.

Tim nodded, then he knocked off his cap, and undid his coat, tossing it to the ground. A long dagger was strapped to his hip, but nothing that would really protect him from Damian's blade.

"What, no grandiose villain speech? You've really slipped compared to Ra's."

"I am no fool, Drake. You barely deserve my personal attention, let alone a fucking speech as to how I found you. You deserve a cruel death and a shallow grave."

"Says the fascist murder."

"You killed my husband!"

"And you killed my father and brother! You killed my best friends and people I considered my family! You've murdered nearly everyone I've ever cared about, you fucking monster!" Tim screamed, pulling out his dagger.

He lunged forwards, but Damian was faster, easily plunging his sword through Drake's stomach, grabbing the man's knife hand and yanking him in tighter. 

"This is more merciful than you deserve," Damian snarled, he yanked out his katana and stepped back, just to slice it across Drake's throat.

Tim made a horrendous, alarmed noise and stumbled back, hand flying up to his throat, trying to cover the gash in his throat, trying to save his own life, but it was no use. Damian slammed his foot into Tim's knees, knocking him backwards. He tumbled to the ground, dagger scattering across the floor. Damian stepped over to him, crouching next to him.

"Go to hell," he said, and then spat in Tim's face.

Tim's eyes rolled back in his head, even as his body twitched a few times. Damian stayed there beside him, watching, a rather morbid sense of satisfaction washing over him. Tim Drake was dead. He had avenged his husband. He straightened and looked up, over at the Kryptonian's who were stoic faced, one looked mildly amused. 

"Clean this up," he ordered, pointing at the body and the blood seeping out, staining the bottoms of his black boots.

"Yes, your majesty."

Damian turned and walked away.

He had avenged Jon. So why was he starting to feel emptier with every step he took? He didn't like this. He was not supposed to feel this way. He should feel satisfied and content. He had done what he set out to do. He should not feel sick, like there was a growing void inside his stomach.

_Why did he feel this way?_

It was all wrong.

He was so distracted by this that he nearly screamed when he was suddenly slammed into a cement wall, the world blurring around him for a moment before he hit the stone. When he was able to focus, he found himself face to face with the speedster, Bart Allen.

"You fucking monster, you killed him!" 

Damian yelped in pain as his head was bashed back against the cement, hard enough that white spots burst out across his vision and he could instantly feel hot blood seeping down his scalp, matting his hair together. Allen spun and threw him, and Damian screamed in pain as he hit a pole, feeling something in his arm crack as he tumbled into the street. He could hear running, shouting, cars and Allen, blabbering something about how he was going to kill him. Damian was having trouble seeing. He was trained to push the pain aside, but his head hurt so bad and he couldn't think right.

"You killed my boyfriend!" Those words alone pierced through the fog in Damian's brain, followed closely by a scream of pain.

Then someone was picking him up, murmuring worriedly, and he was being carried away, the world swimming around him. He could just barely see the speedster laying on the ground, red seeping out from under him. And then Damian passed out.  
  


  
  


When he came to, he was in the palace, bright white lights of a medical room shining down on him, causing him to squint in pain. He groaned and reached a hand up, touching his face and feeling it tender, bruised, then his hand slid up to the bandages wrapped around his head. His left arm was bandaged in a cast, held up in a sling from a frame, but his right arm was completely fine, gently touching the bandaging on his head. And something alarming hit him.

His hair.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, and he frantically dug at the edge of the bandages, trying to get them off to see if it was real or if he was imagining things.

No. His hair. It was gone. It had been cut off.

It was such a little thing, but he wanted to cry, his stomach churned and he couldn't quite breathe and he made these choking noises as he gripped at what little hair he had left, not even an inch long. His hair had been long for most of his life. And he had no choice. It had just been cut off. He really wanted to throw up suddenly. 

"Baba!"

Damian looked up as the door flew open, confusion temporarily filling his drug addled mind, and then relief when he saw Amelia rush through. She ran over and jumped on the bed, throwing herself into him in a hug. Damian groaned, his arm in piercing pain from the jolt, his head shoved back against the hospital bed. But he wrapped an arm around her, pressing his nose into her curly hair. 

He was a whirlwind of emotion. His hair was gone. He had spent years growing that, he had loved it, he had been so proud of it, Jon had loved it. Jon had adored his long hair, had practically been as obsessed with it as he was. It had been taken from him. So many things had been stolen from him, and now this?

At the same time that he was trying to process this, he was being bombarded by pain, by emptiness, by joy that his daughter was here. His body hurt. He felt empty, he did not have the satisfaction that he had expected to have after killing his husband's murderer. But he could have died, the speedster could have killed him, he had certainly tried. He might not have made it back here, to Amelia, to Hazim, and he was feeling with this huge wave of relief due to that.

"Baba, I was so scared," she whispered out, face pressed into his neck.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Amelia," he murmured.

And he was. He was a fool, putting himself at risk like that. They could have lost both of their fathers. How could he have done that to her?

Amelia was crying, holding onto him tightly, Damian just hugged her back, eyes squeezed closed. After several minutes she sat up,sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at him, reaching up to wipe her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly. 

"I think, my head hurts," he responded, rubbing his own eyes and finding them surprisingly wet.

Amelia looked at him in silence for a bit before reaching up and touching the top of his head, gently putting her fingers into his hair.

"Your pretty hair," she murmured sadly.

Damian made eye contact with her, and then swallowed. "It's just hair, Amelia."

"I guess," she said sadly, dropping her hand to his lap.

"Do you know what happened?"

"They brought you home last night, and refused to let me see you until today."

"What time is it?"

"Nearly two."

Damian nodded, looking around the room. It was the standard issue hospital room within the palace, but there were a few bundles of flowers over by the window. He sighed and looked back to his daughter.

“What happened, baba?” she asked, voice quiet. She always spoke quietly these days.

“I was. . . a speedster attacked me, he’s the one who injured me like this.”

“Did you do it? Did you avenge dad?”

Damian sighed and looked out the window, thinking of Drake’s face as he died, the panicked look, choking on his own blood. He thought of the empty feeling, the black pit in his stomach, the hole from his husband’s death that he thought would be filled by this, or at least shrunk. Only it was worse now. Now he had nothing but his grief, his rage taken away with nothing to focus on.

“I did.”

“Are you gonna come back to us?” Amelia asked. “Hazim misses you. He cries a lot. And he misses Dada.”

Damian closed his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Amelia. I’ll- it’ll be better now, I promise.”

Amelia nodded, reaching up to brush her hair back. Damian sighed, clenching his hand into his blanket.

“Can you have someone get Jason for me?”

“Sure, Baba. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Damian told her softly, leaning up to gently kiss her forehead.

She slid off the bed and walked to the door, pausing beside it and looking back, looking uncertain. Damian smiled and waved her away.

“Come and visit me after your studies, and bring your brother.”

“I will.”

She slipped out, shutting the door behind her. Damian sighed and looked up at the ceiling. This fucking sucks. He laid there in silence for a while, then Jason and Leslie entered.

“Hey, Damian,” Jason said softly, standing at the foot of the bed while Leslie walked up next to him.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor asked, gently grabbing his unbandaged wrist.

“Like shit,” Damian sighed.

“What hurts?”

Everything.

“My head, mostly. My arm is still mostly numb. What happened to it?”

“You have an oblique fracture in your radius. Nothing terrible, you’ll have to keep it in a sling for a few weeks, and then you’ll be good to go,” Leslie explained, motioning at his cast.

“What about my head?”

“You’ve got a pretty nasty gash and a minor concussion. Your majesty, I’m sorry. . . but we had to cut your hair in order to bandage it.”

Damian nodded and looked back at Jason.

“How long am I to stay here?”

“At least for the night, I want to make sure there aren’t any complications with your concussion, and we’ll have to monitor your sleep for a few days, so I’d like to keep you for two or three nights, but I don’t see why you can’t go about usually daily activities, avoiding technology screens of course,” Leslie told him, writing something on a clipboard and then turning back to him.

“Alright. Thank you, Dr. Thompkins.”

“Do you need anything else from me?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure we get some dinner sent up to you. Let me know if you need anything, Emperor Al Ghul.”

She bowed and then left. Damian looked up at Jason, and they looked at each other in silence. Then Jason sighed and pulled a chair over next to him and sat down in it, reaching out and putting a hand on his knee.

“I’m sorry.”

“This does not feel like how I expected it to.”

“Revenge is a weird thing.”

“What am I going to do now?" Damian sighed out, looking away at the door.

“Focus on raising your kids. Be there for them. Let them be there for you. You need each other right now. Let yourself grieve and let yourself heal. Then you can focus on being an emperor again.”

Damian sighed loudly again, rubbing his face. His fingers ran over the edge of the bandage and he was violently reminded of his loss.

“Oh god.”

“What?” Jason asked.

Damian felt his eyes watering, and he stared at the white ceiling as this wave of distraught hit him.

“Oh fuck.”

“Damian, what’s wrong?!”

Damian looked over at Jason as tears started rolling down his face. Jason looked fully alarmed, standing and reaching out to grab Damian’s free hand.

“My hair,” he sobbed out, squeezing Jason’s hand.

Jason stared at him for a few seconds, then started laughing, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Damian to his chest as much as he could as Damian sobbed. It was a pathetic reason to break down, and he hated it, but it was happening and all he could do was cry into Jason’s shirt. He was so overwhelmed and stressed, and everything just piled up and fell apart from this one simple thing. 

Jason stayed and talked with him for nearly an hour, talking about the whole situation with Tim and Bart. While Damian had been dealing with them, Kathy had gone and dealt with Cissie King-Jones. Apparently, the archers' reason for wanting to kill Damian had been because her girlfriend Cassandra Sandsmark, had been a rebel and was killed by some of Damian’s soldiers. All three had been dealt with. So that was completely handled, the rebel forces in general had become so small that Damian wasn’t even sure who was left anymore.

Around supper time, Amelia and Hazim came and visited him for dinner, and Damian was starting to feel better, more relieved to be alive, and almost, he would dare say, a little happy to be with his kids, as he smiled a little more as they chattered back and forth with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Psychologically speaking, vengeance rarely brings the catharsis we are hoping for."
> 
> Yes I really went and cut off Damian's hair, come for me.
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)  
> Or cried.  
> At this point I have a feeling it's the crying one. I made my poor editor cry. Sorry Ted.
> 
> See you next chapter!


	16. Age Brings Wisdom

“Baba. . . . Father.”

Damian looked up, looking to his son who had, at some point, stepped into his office.

“Ah, yes abnay?”

“You asked for my reports of the East Asia province?”

“Right. My apologies, I must’ve gotten lost in thought.”

Hazim arched an eyebrow lightly, before setting a data pad down on the desk in front of his father. Damian picked it up, beginning to read the report, then looking up at Hazim.

It had been fifteen years since Jon’s death. Fifteen years. Everyone had changed so much in that time, logically it was a fairly short time, but fifteen years felt like a long time when you were watching your children age around you. Hazim was now seventeen. Damian had done his best to protect him from the life he had grown up in, keeping him from the horror and abuse he had suffered at the hand of his grandfather, from the neglect, intentional or not of his mother, from the trauma of being a functional assassin at the age of 8. Sure he had trained Hazim. He had made sure the boy was properly educated, and trained to protect himself and others, should it be necessary. But he had also made sure that Hazim was taught compassion and mercy during this.  


Seventeen year old Hazim was nearly a spitting image of Jon. He had Damian’s darker skin, but undeniably held Jon’s facial features, the defined jawline but softer cheekbones, He had Jon’s nose, and his blue eyes, curly black hair, although that was closer to Damian’s then Jon’s in color. He resembled Damian more in body build, more delicate and lighter built then Jon had been. He was wickedly clever, spoke multiple languages already, including Kryptonese and Arabic. He had been trained in politics and had begun studies for the other things he would need inevitably to take over the kingdom. But he had also given the boy opportunities to follow his own interests and dreams, encouraging him to take classes addressing things he wanted to learn.

Hazim’s hair was fairly short, but it was curly and messy. He wore much more casual clothing then Damian ever did, he was relaxed and happy and relatively carefree, and Damian envied him. He longed to be at peace like that, to be content. He had more friends then Damian had ever had at his age, he had people he could trust without a doubt, and he had very few things to fear.  


“Did you enjoy your trip?” Damian inquired, setting down the tablet and standing, holding out his arms to hug Hazim.

Hazim stepped in and hugged him tightly. “I did, the land is beautiful, and the culture in all those cities. It’s amazing. And it was nice to spend time with Uncle Jay.”

Damian hummed and nodded, stepping back and glancing over his son once more, smiling before turning and sitting down.

“Have you heard from Amelia?” Hazim asked cautiously, sitting on the edge of the desk.  


Damian shrugged, grabbing a cord from a drawer and plugging Hazim’s tablet into his computer, hitting a few buttons to download the proper file before answering his son.

“She has told me any updates.”

Hazim scowled at the floor. “Why did she have to move so far away.”

“Because she fell in love?”

“Love is stupid.”

Damian snorted lightly, glancing back to Hazim. “Maybe it is. But without it you wouldn’t be here.”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, why couldn’t’ve Issac moved up here?”

“Because he cares for his sick mother, Hazim. Do you not remember the two months Amelia spent in constant distress because she didn’t want to move to the other side of the world, but she refused to make Issac move to us.”

Hazim grumbled under his breath, glancing away.

Amelia had gotten married nearly five years ago, and moved to North America with her new husband. She was currently pregnant with their second child and due to give birth any day, so Hazim and Damian were both a little on edge. Damian didn’t really expect to be a grandfather at 41, hell he hadn’t expected to be a father at 26, but here he was.  


“What were you planning to do today?” Hazim asked, watching as Damian started looking through his report.

“Oh, I don’t know, work mostly.”

“What if we didn’t do that. I’m tired of work.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, glancing at his son with an amused smile. “And what do you suggest, my darling son?”

“Come teach me harp?”

Damian was silent, considering this. He had started teaching Hazim when he was young, but the lessons had lapsed for a few years when they both got busy, Hazim with his individual lessons, Damian with his work.  


“I can do that.”

Hazim grinned widely, pushing up off the desk. He took his tablet back, and Damian shut down his computer, standing and grabbing the jacket he had been wearing before following Hazim back towards his room. They spent the next few hours just practicing, Damian listening softly as Hazim plucked away at the instrument, playing a soft, sad song. He could probably be lulled to sleep by the music.

“Hey, baba.”

“Yes?” Damian asked, opening his eyes and looking at Hazim.

The teen had his head rested against the side of the harp, hands stilled, watching Damian quietly.

“Do you still miss dada?”

What a loaded question. He sighed, leaning back to brace his hands against the floor, looking across and out the balcony, sitting there silently for a moment.

“I can’t say I don’t miss him, but it’s. . . it doesn’t consume me like it used to."

He could sense Hazim’s curious look.

“After Jon’s death, you wouldn’t remember this, you were too young, but it was like becoming someone else entirely. I didn’t know what way was up, and I couldn’t tell you what day it was or what I had to do. I was just living in this state of numbness for months after, and even after I had started to recover, to heal, I was . . . it was still like I had lost my right arm or something. A part of me was just gone and nothing could fill that void.” Damian sighed softly, then looked over. “Allow me to be a sap for a moment, but without you children, I do not think I would have ever recovered. You gave me something that was more important than my grief, and I know I would not be the same now if it hadn’t been for you and Amelia.”

“. . . I do remember Dada, slightly,” Hazim said softly. “Just little things, like his smile, or his voice. Sometimes I remember him in dreams better than I do in real life.”

Damian smiled softly, nodding. “He would be so proud of you, Hazim,” Damian told him, reaching out and gently touching his son’s cheek.

“I think he’d be proud of you too, Baba.”

“Maybe. Shall we continue?”

Hazim nodded, recognizing the end of the conversation. He brought his fingers back up to the harp strings and began softly plucking, humming quietly as he played. Damian let his eyes close and his mind wander.

He wasn’t lying. He had spiraled very quickly after Jon’s death, and even faster after his execution of Timothy Drake, falling into black moods, fits of rage and anger, or depressive states so strong he could barely bother to get out of bed, let alone rule a kingdom. This had lasted well over six months after the execution. Amelia had, later in life, told him that this time had been one of the first times since she was adopted that she had been truly afraid. Not just of him, but for him. Damian hadn’t been able to apologize to his daughter enough. In truth, it was Amelia who brought him back. The girl, far too young to have to save her father’s life in this regard, had eventually started coming to visit him, sometimes just sitting there in silence, sometimes she’d read out loud to him, or ask him to help her with her studies, even though the most he did was offer a word or two while listening to her talk. When he was in his darker, more volatile moods, she would just gently diffuse his moods, sometimes even putting herself in danger in order to stop him.  


Hazim, had, to a lesser extent, also saved him. The little toddler hadn’t known to avoid Damian, and when he was brought to see his father, would just toddle right up, no matter what state he was in and babble happily to Damian. It had taken him a while, and a moment of yelling at someone while holding Hazim, causing the child to start crying, for Damian to realize what he was becoming, and how Hazim would end up viewing him if he didn’t change something. It wasn’t an instant fix, but it had certainly been a turning point. He had ended up going to Jason and Roy and asking them to basically smack sense into him if he started acting that bad again, which they had on multiple occasions. The Harper-Todd’s could be ruthless when they wanted to be. Which was, admittedly, quite frequently.

Healing had not been easy. Damian, had eventually, at the advice of literally everyone in his life, including his doctor, found a good psychiatrist and spent months talking and healing and just trying to become a functioning human again. Maya, bless her soul, had nearly taken control of the empire by this point, only running things past him because she had to. She could have easily thrown a coup at that point, but she hadn’t and Damian couldn’t be more grateful for her loyalty and friendship.

On another interesting note, Katherine, now a General, and Maya had also gotten married, a few years back. But Damian hadn’t been terribly surprised by that. Lian had ended up becoming a competitive archer, and then moved out with her current significant other. They were living in Australia together, but for what reason, Damian couldn’t figure. Who would choose to live on that god forsaken continent? Jason and Roy were still happily married, still doing remarkably with their jobs, though Roy had stepped down from active work and started training guards and soldiers instead. They were an interesting group of people, the ones that Damian called his family, and the ones his children called their Aunt’s and Uncle’s, but he wouldn’t ever trade them for any biological family of his.

Damian was waiting for the day Hazim would come to him, confessing a relationship with someone, and asking for his blessing, but with all of his sons traveling and friends he had made, it had yet to happen. But he was young, and still had a lot of life to live. And besides that, if Hazim wasn’t interested in a romance, Damian wouldn’t try to force one on him. He would accept and encourage his son to be himself, no matter what. He wouldn’t be like his mother, nor like Kal.

The Kryptonians were also an interesting story. They had still managed to maintain some relevance in Damian’s life, due to Hazim. The Empire of Krypton had in fact settled down, the Green Lantern corp decided to leave them alone, so with no impending battle, the empire had instead worked on forming more alliances and trade treaties with the planets in its solar system. Kon-El had turned out to be a very wise ruler, despite the appearance he gave of a dumb weightlifter. Jor-El had, much to Damian’s secret joy, passed away six years ago, and when Hazim was 15, he and Damian had gone to visit Krypton for the first time, with Maya and Amelia in charge of Earth in their stead.  


Krypton was bleak and gray and industrial, and Damian finally understood why all the Kryptonians were so infatuated with Earth. It’s sun was harsh, the days were long, and the nights were even longer. He didn’t know why anyone would decide to live on this planet, but they certainly had, and had made it beautiful in its own way through architecture and other various landscaping. Nothing green would grow outside, and even inside they had to be in very specific conditions, depending on the plant. But Hazim had found the planet incredibly fascinating, as well as the family he was just now getting to meet. He had spent most of his days running around with his cousins, learning the language and culture better from their two weeks on Krypton then he had been able to in all his training with Kryptonian tutors.  


Kon-El had been pleasant as always, he had always been more open and friendly with Damian then Kal had ever been, and even now, despite their lack of real familial ties, he was just as friendly. Plus he absolutely adored Hazim, he always had, even since he was a small child.  


“I’m gonna go, Kathy was going to take me for a ride.”

Damian looked up, his thoughts suddenly broken by Hazim’s sudden speaking. He didn’t realize the teen had even stopped playing, let alone was standing, letting the Harp lean back onto its rests.

“Ah, okay. Tell her I said hello.”  


Hazim smiled and nodded, bending down and lightly kissing his father’s cheek before turning and walking out. Damian watched him with a smile before standing and walking through his rooms, into the main room. A soft growl noise pulled his attention and with another smile, Damian turned and walked over to Malika, who was laying on the sofa. The big cat was old, white speckling her fur, but for twenty-five, she was still fairly agile and in great health. She did tend to spend most of her time inside his or Hazim’s rooms, but she still went out and stalked the halls of the palace and scared the shit out of the guards. It was quite amusing.

“Hello, beautiful one,” Damian murmured, gently stroking her huge head. She offered a soft snarl in response, keeping her eyes closed. “We’re getting old, aren’t we?"

She opened her eyes to give him an amused look, then with a heavy groan, rolled onto her side. He chuckled and patted her shoulder once before walking away, and out, clicking the door shut behind him. He headed back to his office, sitting down and reading Hazim’s report, and then Jason’s. The two reports matched, so he didn’t have to do any further investigating into the matter.  


Things had settled down in the empire remarkably over the past decade. Damian had, as the Emperor, given the different provinces a little more slack, and a little more ruling power over their own people, but he still kept up to tabs with all of them, still made sure they were being honest and fair and doing their damn jobs. The amount of heads of states and governors he had to replace was just insane at this point. Why did politicians just run to get elected because they  _ wanted to?  _ If you have no interest in caring for and helping your people, don’t run for office, it was as simple as that. But alas, corruption is an old song, and humanity knows it by memory.  


It wasn’t until dinner that evening that he got the call. He was sitting there, chatting with Roy about how Lian was doing, when a servant burst in, holding a tablet. All of Damian’s calls were screened, as a matter of security, so unfortunately this meant that whenever a family member called him, a servant or someone had to sprint to fetch him.  


“Emperor Al Ghul! Your son-in-law is calling!”

Damian hurriedly dropped his fork, holding his hand out for the tablet, Hazim jumped up and rushed over to sit beside him. Damian took the tablet and answered the call, watching as a video pulled up. He was greeted with an image of Issac Bisset. Issac was a tall man, skinny, but with a runner’s muscles. He wasn’t a particularly notable individual, but he was kind and cared about people. He had blonde hair, usually neatly styled, was now flopping down in his eyes, clearly very messy, but he was grinning widely.

“Issac, what is the news?” Damian asked, looking for any clues in his surroundings.

“Well, there is certainly news,” Issac started, his grin only growing. “It’s a boy!”

Everyone in the room with Damian cheered.

“Congratulations!” Damian exclaimed, glancing back at Hazim who had a huge grin.

“Thank you! Do you want to see them?”

“Of course we do!” Hazim inputted, leaning against Damian’s shoulder.  


Issac laughed, tilting the screen up to the ceiling as he walked.

“Honey, they want to say hi.”

“Oh, oh dear, wait, hold on-” Damian chuckled as he heard Amelia’s voice, then there was a blur of motion, and Issac was sitting next to Amelia on a hospital bed. “Hi, baba! Hi, Hazim!”

Laying on Amelia’s chest was a newborn baby, eyes closed as he slept. Damian let out a little involuntary coo, smiling brightly as he saw him. Amelia was grinning at the camera, and she did have the “glow” of a mother just out of labor about her, despite looking exhausted.

“Congratulations, Amelia,” Damian hummed, looking back to his daughter.

“Thank you, Baba."

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Hazim asked.

The couple glanced at each other.  


“Well, Baba. . . I wanted to ask if it was alright if we named him Jon.”

Damian blinked at the screen. It took him a moment to process that, then a soft smile reappeared on his lips as he looked at the new baby with the love only a grandparent knows.  


“I would love that,” He said softly. 

Amelia grinned brightly. “Then, baba, meet baby Jon Bisset.”

“He’s beautiful,” Damian told her. “I can’t wait to meet him properly.”

“Then you’ll have to come visit soon.”

“I most certainly will.”

They talked for a little longer, before they hung up so they could return to eating. Damian looked up to his little family, smiling softly. Maybe this wasn’t what he imagined his life was going to look like, sixteen years ago, but it was his life now. Sure he would trade it for a life with Jon still alive, but for how the circumstances turned out, he would accept it. He still had his family, he had his children, and he loved them more then he would ever really realize. Maybe he would fall in love again one day, maybe not. But either way, he would accept it. He had what he needed right now. And things were going fine . . . for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends.
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone who stuck with this for this long! To anyone reading this after, thank you for spending the time to catch up with this enormous story! 
> 
> I'm sure there will be mixed opinions on this last chapter, but look, I'm a sap. It may have not been a totally happy ending but it is bittersweet, I think. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story, and once again, thanks everyone!
> 
> So long, farewell, and goodbye! <3
> 
> EDIT: MY AMAZING WONDERFUL EDITOR AND FRIEND GAVE ME AN AMAZING GIFT!!!
> 
> https://legitpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/619102662882934784/yo-queerbutstillhere-this-is-an-appreciation
> 
> That's all. Please give them love, I'm begging you.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @ queerbutstillhere and @queerbutstillhere-writes !
> 
> Thank you to Postwick for being an amazing editor! Check them out on Tumblr and Instagram @legitpumpkin


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